


I Wish I May, I Wish I Might

by Baggy_Trousers



Category: EXO (Band), NCT (Band), SHINee, SuperM (Korea Band), WAYV
Genre: (with a few creative liberties of course), Anal Plug, Body Swap, Canon Compliant, M/M, Masturbation, Mutual Masturbation, Pining, Rating May Change, Unexplained Mysteries of the Universe, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-27
Updated: 2020-11-30
Packaged: 2021-01-04 12:50:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 31,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21197942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Baggy_Trousers/pseuds/Baggy_Trousers
Summary: Ten takes a deep breath. “Hyung, I think something has happened,” he says and Taemin nods. Ten tries to process his words but he comes up with nothing.“Jongin, please talk to me,” Taemin begs and he looks so sad. Ten takes a deep breath.“Ok…Ok, so…I’m not Jongin hyung,” he begins, “I’m Ten.” Taemin’s mouth gapes a few times and then he shakes his head, speechless and ready to turn away. Ten grabs his wrist. Taemin cries out and Ten immediately retracts his hands; Jongin is a lot stronger than him clearly. “Hyung, it’s me, it’s Ten. I-I think hyung and I might have swapped bodies.”--A.K.A; The body swapping fic no one asked for.





	1. 1.

**Author's Note:**

> Cos SuperM is a wet dream of multi fandom and needs more fics.
> 
> \--
> 
> This is my first time writing any of the groups involved in SuperM, so I hope it's ok. As always, it is never my intention to offend anyone. 
> 
> Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy xx

There is an expression, be careful what you wish for.

By now, they are used to the kinds of questions they’ll get asked at Q&A’s. Inoffensive, non-controversy causing bubble-gum sweet questions that they’ve probably been asked one hundred times over. Ten feels for Taemin, who has been doing this longer than any of them. At this point, his hyung could probably answer these questions whilst asleep.

“Hey, hyung,” Yukhei calls out to him, throwing a long arm around his neck. They’re back in the house they’re renting, and someone allowed them to have bottles of wine. Yukhei’s cheeks are a little flushed, his eyes glassy, and whoever said it was a good idea to let these boys drink was going to be in trouble tomorrow, but that isn’t Ten’s problem. He’s too busy squirming around when Yukhei hauls him down onto his lap, arranging him so that he’s settled between his legs.

They’re gathered in Taemin’s room, having been sent up to “bed” a while ago, though no one had listened to that order.

“How come you didn’t want to body swap with me?” Yukhei asks, breath tickling his earlobe and Ten wriggles. “You said Kai hyung because he’s tall, but I’m tallest, right?”

Ten pats his arm fondly. “Yes, Yukhei, you are the tallest,” he says sagely and Yukhei whoops with pride, snuggling up against Ten’s back like an oversized koala.

“I said I wanted to be you, Yukhei,” Taemin says. Besides him, Jongin is curled up against his side, head down and eyes shut. Ten admires their friendship greatly. The two of them care for each other a great deal, and one of the nicest things to come out of this super group is an opportunity for two good friends to be able to spend some time together. When coming from a group as big as NCT, Ten is constantly surrounded by friends all of a similar age to himself, and he forgets sometimes what it must be like for Jongin and Taemin, working in two different groups.

He can already tell how much SuperM means to Taemin; with his hyungs away serving, the man must be missing some group-based companionship.

“Because Lucas is so manly and strong,” Taeyong adds, from where he’s spread-eagled on the floor. He’s quite drunk. Mark, as his roommate for the night, is giving him rather resentful looks.

Baekhyun drains his glass and sets it down to the side. “I think everyone has had enough for one night,” he says wisely, then hiccups. Taemin wriggles to the side, and Jongin’s head thunks against the wall. He moans softly, hunching over and clutching at his stomach.

Everyone turns to look at him, concerned. “Is he ok?” Mark asks worriedly. “Did he drink too much?” Taemin turns to his friend and feels his forehead.

“He only had one glass of wine. He’s really hot.” Ten unconsciously fans himself with his shirt. He’d thought it was just him who thought it was getting warm in here.

“Jongin ah,” Baekhyun says, touching his bandmates shoulder, “You ok?”

“Dizzy…” Jongin mumbles and Baekhyun and Taemin coo sympathetically. Ten averts his eyes as Taemin leans over and puts his lips to Jongin’s forehead, instead occupying himself with dragging Yukhei’s lanky body to his feet.

“Why do you need to do that, you’ve already said he feels warm,” Baekhyun is bickering.

“Goodnight, hyungs,” Ten adds in as Yukhei tries to wind himself around him like a snake.

Taemin and Baekhyun come to the door with them, where Mark and Taeyong are already waiting. “I’ll keep him here tonight,” Taemin says. Ten blinks. Jongin is supposed to be rooming with Baekhyun. “I’d feel better if he’s where I can keep an eye on him.”

Ten waits for Baekhyun to say something, but the leader only nods. For a split second, he and Taemin seem to be having a silent conversation, and a spike of unprovoked jealousy runs through Ten’s stomach. He shivers suddenly, tummy rolling.

“Let me know if you need anything,” Baekhyun says and Taemin nods, shutting the door. Baekhyun turns to the four of them. “To bed, children, chop-chop.”

Ten starts to walk and trips a little. Mark casts him a worried wide-eyed glance. “You ok?” he asks in English.

“I’m fine,” Ten says thickly, but his stomach feels jumpy. “Just tripped.”

“Markie, I’m tired,” Taeyong says into the younger man’s shoulder and Mark rolls his eyes. Baekhyun sees them to the doors, ushering them inside with little finesse. Ten and Yukhei are in the room opposite Taeyong and Mark, and Ten waves to Mark.

“Good luck,” he says, gesturing to where Taeyong is currently wrestling with trying to get his shirt over his head. Clearly, he is enjoying and making the most of his time not having to be a leader responsible for a group. Mark gulps.

“Pray for me,” he says, and shuts the door.

Ten sighs, and then has to take a moment because his head starts to spin. He braces himself against the door frame, bowing his head and waiting for it to pass.

Yukhei is already getting changed for bed, trying to clumsily undo his shirt buttons. “Come here,” Ten says, stepping forwards to help him. His vision swims for a second and he clears his throat, sniffing.

“Are you alright?” Yukhei asks him, “You look a little sweaty.”

“Oh wow, thank you,” Ten snorts. He gets the last of Yukhei’s buttons undone and starts to help him with his belt.

“I know why you picked Jongin hyung and Taemin hyung today,” Yukhei says suddenly and Ten freezes for a split second before resuming helping him with the clasp of his belt.

“It was a stupid Q&A question, just drop it,” he says.

“It’s Jongin hyung, right? You like him. You like them both.”

Ten swallows as his stomach turns again. “Of course I like them, they’re my hyungs.”

Yukhei gives him an unimpressed look. “You know what I mean.” He winces when Ten yanks on his pants a little too roughly, pushing him back onto the bed in order to help pull them off. As he kneels down, Ten is hit by a violent throbbing in his temple.

“Yukhei-”

“Johnny hyung told me what happened.”

Ten stops what he’s doing, shivers racking down his arms and legs. “Did he now?”

“Um, yeah…”

“Then did he also tell you that everything is fine between us now and we’re still good friends?”

“You don’t have to be ashamed,” Yukhei says quickly, and Ten’s stomach lurches violently.

“I know that,” he grits out, “Do you think I don’t know that already, _ah-”_ He breaks off as his vision swims and he thinks for a moment that he’s going to pass out.

“Hyung?” Yukhei sways forwards and grabs his arms to steady him. “Ok, uh, let’s get you to lie down.” He helps Ten onto his bed and eases him down onto his side. Ten shuts his eyes tight as he waits for the dizziness to stop, and he can faintly hear a tap running.

Yukhei returns to his side with a glass of water and he helps to support Ten’s head as he drinks from it. “God…” Ten groans as the spinning finally stops.

“Do you need me to get Baekhyun hyung?” Yukhei asks nervously, face pale, but Ten shakes his head.

“I’ll be ok,” he croaks, feeling anything but. “I’ll be ok, Xuxi, I just need to sleep.” Yukhei crumples a little, and he sinks onto the bed besides Ten, nuzzling at him.

“Maybe it was something hyung and I drank?” Ten mumbles, thinking about how drowsy Jongin had looked back in Taemin’s room.

“Hyung?”

“Mm?”

“Do you fancy Jongin hyung?”

Ten groans and feels Yukhei press closer to him in apology. “Why does it matter?” he asks.

”Because it’s important to you.”

Ten shakes his head. “It isn’t,” he lies. “Just drop it, Xuxi, it’s nothing.” Yukhei stays next to him in his bed, climbing it’s to make sure he’s ok. The truth is that Ten doesn’t really mind; he’s glad of the contact right now. Whether he meant too or not, Yukhei has grazed a raw nerve.

He and Johnny had made a go of it and had ultimately come out of the relationship deciding that they were better off as friends. Johnny considered himself to be a straight man, and that was ok, but it didn’t mean that Ten hadn’t been hurt by the breakup when it initially happened. The fact that they hadn’t told anyone about their relationship, and yet everyone seemed to know when they broke up was a real kick in the teeth. Promotions for WayV were a blessing because they kept Ten busy, and Johnny was touring with 127, which reduced the number of people questioning why two guys who’d been so close suddenly weren’t as close, but it still sucked. Sometimes Ten wonders that if they’d just stuck with sleeping together and hadn’t tried to be boyfriends as well, or better yet, had just kept from bumping uglies _altogether,_ things might not have changed between them.

But he’s moved on. Seemingly not to bigger and better things though, because now he’s plagued by not one but two bandmate crushes. Taemin is everything that Ten aspires to be. Sexy, smart, confident, _successful._ Taemin is walking proof of everything that hardwork and dedication can get you in their chosen profession; with over ten years of industry experience under his belt and still nowhere near thirty, but still incredibly humble and dignified no matter what has been thrown his way, Taemin is somewhat of a living legend amongst the artists of SM. Ten isn’t quite sure if he’d like to _be_ Taemin or be _with_ Taemin.

And Jongin.

Jongin truly is a one of a kind. He’s gorgeous, in a way that defies the meticulous beauty standards that their industry forces upon them. He’s all sharp angles but soft features, boxy and beautiful with a smoky seductiveness about him that people can’t help but be drawn to.

He’s somewhat of a rebel; his history of dating has labelled him as an anti-hero heartbreaker without meaning too – unlucky in love but never because of something that _he_ did. He is a champion of the fans when he gets with a new woman, and their sweet darling when the relationship is inevitably broken up, because he said _fuck this_ to the no dating rule and went ahead and did it anyway which people admired him for.

And yet, he’s also _lovely._ He’s funny and kind and cute, hardworking and a great listener. The other day, he showed Ten a video of him playing with his niece and nephew and Ten was instantly struck with a broodiness and a craving for a child, and he didn’t even have a womb. Jongin is so humble with all of them, especially Mark and Yukhei, who it’s clear think the sun shines out of his ass. Ten doesn’t think the sun shines out of it, necessarily, but he certainly thinks about Jongin’s ass a lot.

He hadn’t actually meant to list of his crushes in the Q&A today, but he thinks he got away with it. Jongin and Taemin see him with affection in the way he imagines one looks at a small child; with pride and an urge to nurture and mold them. Ten knows that nothing will ever come of his lust for either of them; he’s been there, done that, has the T-shirt and can confirm that sleeping with a bandmate _is_ as messy as it’s always made out to be. If anything, he’s going to use SuperM as an opportunity to learn from two men that he greatly admires and nothing more, no matter what his hormones tell him.

His head throbs and he groans weakly, screwing his eyes shut against the pain. He’s never experienced symptoms like this all at once before. He hopes he isn’t getting sick; they have a busy few weeks of promotions lined up, and no one can afford to not be performing at their best.

His limbs feel achy, and he must have started to make pained noises because Yukhei sits up and starts rubbing his arms. “I should get hyung,” Yukhei says, and Ten shakes his head.

“Leave it, Xuxi, it’ll be fine,” he says, as he’s rocked with another wave of pain running through his arms and legs. He swallows the gasp of pain at the feeling, and squeezes his eyes shut. “Let me know if it gets worse,” Yukhei mumbles, clearly unhappy with the turn of events and Ten promises he will. He decides to wait the pain out as long as he can, hoping that if he just sleeps, it’ll be gone by the morning.

*

The next morning, he’s awoken by a shifting against his back. Ten doesn’t think anything of it, still half asleep. Distantly, he registers that there isn’t any more of that pain he was feeling last night. His limbs feel normal and his head isn’t throbbing. In fact, he feels really refreshed.

And hard.

He shifts in the bed, sensitive groin rubbing against the rough fabric of his boxers. He doesn’t remember getting undressed last night, but perhaps Yukhei did it for him when he fell asleep.

Speaking of Yukhei, the younger boy seems to have wound himself around Ten during the night. There’s an arm slung tightly around his waist, dangerously close to his crotch, and Ten wonders if he can get up without waking him so that he can go to the shower and take care of this.

He’s not embarrassed by getting erections around the other boys; it’s natural and in a group as big as NCT, even when they’re in their subunits, it’s hard to find alone time. He’s just glad that in SuperM, this is happening around someone he knows and not Baekhyun, or, god forbid, Taemin or Jongin.

He moves a little, and the arm around his waist tightens. He hears a soft, sleepy sigh and then a voice which is _way_ too high to belong to Yukhei says, “Hey, Nini? You feeling better?”

_Nini?_

Ten freezes as the arm around him moves down to his groin and finds his erection over his boxers, giving it a squeeze. _“This_ seems to think you’re feeling better,” the voice hums pleasantly, thumb fondling the sensitive head of his prick through the fabric, and Ten lets out a strangled breath.

“Yukhei-?” he gasps and the hand around his dick pauses for a moment.

“You weren’t dreaming of our Lucas, were you? That dirty talk about being fucked by the rest of the group must have really got you going. Have I really lost you so fast?” A series of small kisses are placed on the back of his neck, and Ten instantly springs into action.

“What the _fuck-”_ he snaps in English, shoving the hand away and shooting out of the bed. “Yukhei, what the he-” He chokes off as he stares at the bed where Taemin is sitting, blinking at him with a surprised look on his face. “H-hyung what the hell-?” he stammers. His voice is gruff with sleep, a little bit deeper.

Taemin sits up as well, looking confused. “Were you actually having a sex dream about Yukhei?” he asks, throwing back the covers and Ten wheezes despite himself. Taemin is only in a pair of tight grey boxers. He can see his dick, half hard under the fabric. He stares.

“W-why are you in my bed?” he whispers, “Where did Yukhei go?”

Taemin looks even more confused. “He went back to his room last night with Ten, remember?” he says. _What?_ “You were acting weird and sick, so I told hyung I’d keep you here tonight to keep an eye on you.”

“B-but I’m Ten,” Ten says and Taemin blinks.

“Jongin, are you feeling ill still? Come here.” Before Ten can protest, Taemin is grabbing him by the wrist and hauling him onto the bed. He puts his lips to Ten’s forehead and Ten squirms. “Hm, you’re not hot anymore. Just hard.” Taemin’s hand rakes over his chest and Ten shrieks. “Jongin, what the fuck?”

“Why do you keep calling me Jongin?” Ten asks desperately.

“Because you are?”

“I’m really not.”

Taemin gapes at him. Suddenly, he smirks in a way that Ten has only seen on fan-cams and in his perverted dreams. “Oh, I see,” Taemin says. He sits back and rolls his neck, pouting with his bottom lip pushed out. “Do you want to be my daddy, is that it?”

Ten chokes. “Hyung, what the fuck?!”

“What the hell has gotten into you?” Taemin snaps, “Do you not want to play?”

“_I’m_ Ten!” Ten yells.

Taemin folds his arms. “Ok, no,” he says, “I know that we have experimented with roleplaying in the past but there is no way that I am pretending that you’re our bandmate. The dirty talk I can do but that’s just _weird,_ Nini.”

“But I really _am_ Ten,” Ten says, and then pauses. His voice is still a lot lower than what he’s used too. Normally after he’s talked for a few minutes, it warms up and then returns to its usual higher pitch. He looks down at himself. His skin looks darker, his chest more contoured. He looks like-

Ten slaps his hands to his face and feels his nose. It’s flatter and wider than what he’s used to, not with the little ski jump at the end.

“Where’s the bathroom?” he croaks. Taemin points, staring at him like he’s lost the plot, and Ten stumbles towards the bathroom. He whacks on the light and stares at himself in the reflection.

Except he’s not looking at himself. Staring back at him is Jongin. Ten cautiously approaches the mirror, and the Jongin in the reflection moves with him. Ten waves his left hand and the Jongin in the mirror does it too. He shakes his right hand and the Jongin in the mirror does it as well. Absently, he tries to lick his elbow, stick out his tongue and flicks himself on the nipple. The Jongin in the mirror does all of this, including the pained little wince afterwards when his chest throbs.

“Jongin, you’re scaring me,” Taemin says, appearing beside him. He’s put on a shirt; it’s Jongin’s shirt and Ten screams, then realizes that not five minutes ago, Taemin had been trying to fondle Jongin’s dick and he screams again. “What’s going on, why are you screaming?” Taemin asks, and he actually does look afraid.

Ten takes a deep breath. “Hyung, I think something has happened,” he says and Taemin nods. Ten tries to process his words but he comes up with nothing.

“Jongin, please talk to me,” Taemin begs and he looks so sad. Ten takes a deep breath.

“Ok…Ok, so…I’m not Jongin hyung,” he begins, “I’m Ten.” Taemin’s mouth gapes a few times and then he shakes his head, speechless and ready to turn away. Ten grabs his wrist. Taemin cries out and Ten immediately retracts his hands; Jongin is a lot stronger than him clearly. “Hyung, it’s me, it’s Ten. I-I think hyung and I might have swapped bodies.”

Taemin’s face screws up. “If you’re just making fun of me-”

“I’m not,” Ten says quickly. “I swear, I’m not. Hyung, I promise you, I’m Ten.”

Taemin is making a constipated face. “Jongin…” he says, and then stops, at a lost for words.

Ten turns back to the mirror and inspects himself again. “This is crazy…” He passes a hand over his lips. They’re Jongin’s lips, plushy and soft. His jaw is Jongin’s square jaw, his flat nose, his hair, dyed and a little rough from the bleach.

“Jongin, you _look_ crazy,” Taemin whispers. He looks really sad. “Are you… are you ok? Do you need me to get someone?”

“Hyung, I’m telling you the truth, I’m Ten.”

Taemin shakes his head. “I’m getting Baekhyun hyung,” he says suddenly. “Stay here, don’t… don’t hurt yourself, please?”

He leaves the room, and Ten turns back to his reflection as he hears the door shut. “Whoa,” he murmurs and that’s Jongin’s voice. “This is _crazy,”_ he repeats. He sticks his tongue out again, and then turns to the side and inspects his body. Jongin really is in fantastic shape, all hard contours and firm muscles. His (Jongin’s) eyes rake down to the bump of his cock beneath his boxers, and he realizes just how inappropriate he’s being. Resting the urge to look, he goes back into the room and starts rooting around for something to wear. Taemin had walked away with his shirt from last night, so Ten scans through Taemin’s suitcase.

He searches through underwear and socks, when he feels something hard and cool. Picking it up, it takes him a second to realize that it’s a vibrator. He screams again and throws it back down, then grabs the first ratty T-shirt he finds and pulls that on over his head.

Just as he’s trying to stuff everything back into the bag, the door opens and Taemin returns, this time with a very tired looking Baekhyun in tow. “Taemin says you’re acting weird,” Baekhyun says. He looks exhausted; there are dark circles under his eyes. “This isn’t funny, Jongin, either you’re joking around and it needs to stop, or your delusional because you’re still ill.”

“I’m not either of those,” Ten snaps, getting to his feet. He notices Taemin eying up the bag he’d just been going through and then his cheeks flush bright red, and Ten knows that he knows he’d found the vibrator. He sniffs and folds his arms. “I’m Ten.”

“Jongin,” Baekhyun sighs, in a way that is far too practiced and parental. “Come on, stop fucking around.”

“I’m _not,”_ Ten insists, “I’m Ten, why won’t either of you listen to me?” Baekhyun opens his mouth to answer when Ten cuts him off. “Wait,” he says suddenly. “If I’m telling the truth, then surely Jongin hyung is in my body, right? He’ll be down the hall with Yukhei.”

“I’m not waking up Ten and Yukhei to join in on your stupid prank,” Baekhyun snaps, but Ten simply pushes past him. It’s easy, and he decides he likes the strength aspect of this body before he’s out the door and pounding down the corridor. He can hear Baekhyun and Taemin behind him, arguing amongst themselves as he stops outside the door to his and Yukhei’s room.

“Jongin,” Baekhyun barks but Ten ignores him, hammering on the bedroom door.

“Jongin, baby, please,” Taemin begs, “Come back to the room and stop playing, this is ridiculous.”

Ten ignores them, banging on the door. He continues to do this until it opens, Yukhei looking sleep rumbled and like he’d just woken up. He most likely _had._ “Morning, hyungs,” he yawns, scratching his head, “Is it PT time already?”

“Yukhei, is Ten in there with you?” Taemin asks, and Yukhei looks over his shoulder. “Yeah, he’s asleep. He had a rough night, I think he had whatever it was you had, hyung.” He looks at Ten, or in this case _Jongin,_ as he says this and Baekhyun makes a noise.

“He hasn’t left the room all night?”

“No,” Yukhei chirps, crying out when Ten shoves past him.

“Jongin!” Baekhyun yells, barreling in after him. Taemin follows on his heels and Yukhei just stands there blankly holding the door open.

Ten’s body is asleep on the bed, right where he’d nodded off last night. He looks very peaceful, Ten thinks, as he shakes himself awake.

“What’s happening?” Yukhei asks and he hears Taemin say,

“Jongin’s lost his mind.”

On the bed, Ten’s body stirs and rubs his face into the pillow, groaning softly. “What time izzit…” he mumbles, before sitting up and blinking himself awake. He looks at his four bandmates standing around him, all looking very confused, and then his eyes settle on Ten, or in this case, Jongin.

He screams and leaps out of the bed.

“What the _fuck?”_ he shouts.

“Ten, calm down-” Baekhyun begins.

“What the fuck, who are _you?”_ the body of Ten screams.

“I’m Ten,” says Ten calmly, “Who are you?”

“What the fuck,” the Ten body repeats, “What the fuck?”

“Jongin,” Taemin suddenly says quietly and the body of Ten stops his ranting to look at Taemin with wobbly eyes.

“Taemin?” he asks and Taemin sucks in a breath.

“Oh, come _on,”_ Baekhyun snaps, “You’re in on this too?” Jongin, in Ten’s body, gets to his feet and staggers into the ensuite, much the same way that Ten did. He looks at himself in the mirror, body shaking.

“Oh my god,” he keeps saying, “Oh my god.”

“Can someone please explain what’s going on?” Yukhei asks. He’s ignored. Ten follows Jongin into the bathroom.

“Hyung,” he says quietly. Jongin turns to face him and Ten winces. It’s a weird (literal) out of body experience for him, seeing himself looking so panicked and afraid. Suddenly Jongin lunges for him, gripping him by the front of his shirt.

“What did you do?” he screams, clawing at Ten’s face, his own face, “What the fuck did you do, change us back!”

“I don’t know how this happened!” Ten shouts back. He grabs Jongin by his skinny wrists, easily holding him still and it occurs to him that the muscles on his own body have nothing on Jongin. Yukhei, ever the faithful, pushes them apart and drags a still scrapping Jongin back into the bedroom.

Baekhyun is pinching the bridge of his nose between his hands, looking like he’s praying to the gods for strength. Ten watches sadly as his own little body struggles against Yukhei’s bigger form. Whilst Ten is by no means unfit (there’s a reason he’s always put in open shirts for promotions), he is _tiny_ and he knows he can’t compare when it comes to sheer mass with people like Jongin and Lucas. It’s something he’s bonded with Taeyong over; they’re wiry and proud of it.

Taemin, who has been very quiet all this time, steps forwards. “Nini,” he says quietly, and Jongin stops struggling. Taemin cups his face and looks him deep in the eyes. Ten’s chest hurts at seeing an image of himself and Taemin looking at one another in such a way, like lovers would.

Taemin’s thumb strokes tenderly across one of Ten’s (Jongin’s) cheekbones, and then he pulls away, turning to Baekhyun. “He’s telling the truth,” he says quietly, “That’s Jongin in there.”

“Of course it is,” Ten snaps, hurt. “This is what I’ve been trying to tell you guys, we’ve switched!”

“But how?” Baekhyun asks. He looks dumbfounded. “How is that even possible?”

“Oh my god, this is like that TV show!” Yukhei says suddenly. “The one with the man and the woman and they swap bodies.”

“That’s really not helping, Xuxi,” Ten says sadly.

“I’m just saying-”

“Ok,” Baekhyun interrupts. “This is insane, I hope you both know this.”

“What do we do?” Taemin asks. He’s clutching Jongin’s wrist, and Ten’s skin prickles.

“I don’t know, I’ve never known this to happen before,” Baekhyun replies. Yukhei already has his phone out.

“Ok, I’ve got good news and bad news,” he says.

“What’s the good news?” Jongin asks.

“There’s lots of stuff on the internet about this.”

“And the bad news?” Taemin prompts.

“It looks like stuff like this is only known to happen in the world of fiction.”

“For fucks sake,” Baekhyun groans.

Yukhei ignores him, blissfully in his own world. “I’ll do some more research into this,” he says, “I’m hungry, can we get breakfast?”

Ten stares at him. “You want to _eat_ at a time like this?”

“Food helps me think.”

“Ok,” Baekhyun announces. “I’m going to take Ten to my room and find him something to wear. Taemin, you stay here with Jongin and make him dress like Ten. Yukhei, you…you do you. Get uber eats as well, I think the best thing for now is to stay as far away from anyone else till we figure out what’s going on.”

“What do we tell Mark and Taeyong?” Taemin asks. Jongin’s sitting on the bed with his head in his hands.

“Don’t say anything for now,” Baekhyun says firmly, “Mark will have an aneurism if we tell him.” Ten smacks Yukhei on the arm as he follows Baekhyun out.

“That means you,” he says, and mimes zipping his mouth shut.

Baekhyun doesn’t say anything to him as they go down the corridor to the room he was supposed to be sharing with Jongin. Baekhyun holds the door open for Ten to follow him inside, and then locks it behind him.

Baekhyun’s bed is still unmade, but Jongin’s is immaculate, clearly not having been slept in. “I need to talk to you about something,” Baekhyun says suddenly, and his voice is incredibly somber. Ten turns and sits down on Jongin’s unused bed, waiting. Baekhyun takes a seat opposite him and clears his throat. Ten has never seen him so serious. “Taemin mentioned to me that he woke you up in a rather,” He clears his throat, _“Interesting_ way.”

“You mean when he fondled my dick?” Ten says and the corners of Baekhyun’s mouth dip.

“If that’s how you want to put it,” he sniffs. “I need you to not talk about what happened, ok, with _anyone._ Not Yukhei, not Taeyong, not Mark. No one in your group, not your friends. Not with _anyone.”_

“Do you think I’m stupid?” Ten asks bluntly and Baekhyun shakes his head.

“No, I don’t. Which is why I know you’re smart enough to not let this get out.”

“Hyung, I’m gay,” Ten snaps. “I was sleeping with a member of my group for almost a year. I’m not an idiot.”

Baekhyun sucks in a breath. “I had a feeling,” he says quietly and Ten snorts. _Everyone_ has fucking feelings these days, he thinks. “They’ll be grateful,” Baekhyun continues. “Taemin is a bit spooked right now, but he felt really bad about what happened. I don’t want you to think he violated you on purpose or anything like that, he genuinely believed you were Jongin.”

“No hard feelings,” Ten mutters as Baekhyun gets up to start looking through Jongin’s bag. “I mean, this whole situation is pretty fucked up isn’t it.”

“You’re telling me, kid,” Baekhyun replies, “Come here and pick out what you want to wear, I’ll tell you if it’s _‘Jongin’_ enough.”

*

Ten looks pretty smart, if he does say so himself.

That’s both him in Jongin’s body, and Jongin is his body. Baekhyun had given him loose-fitting long sleeve and slacks because Ten point blank refused to wear a blazer at half past eight in the morning.

Taemin, on the other hand, had given Jongin some ripped jeans and a simple T-shirt to wear. Yukhei nods his head when Ten and Baekhyun come downstairs to join them, a piece of toast caught between his teeth as he types away frantically on his laptop.

“How much did you order?” Baekhyun examines the breakfast bar, which is covered on all surfaces with food. There’s toast, pancakes, pastries, puddings, eggs, bacon, _rice._ Lucas hands Ten a plate from the cupboard.

“Just enough so that we won’t get hungry. Eat up, hyung,” he chirps happily.

Ten grumbles under his breath, putting the plate down and reaching for a sachet to make a coffee. Jongin looks up from where he’s peeling an orange. “Don’t do that,” he says. Ten bristles. It’s weird hearing his voice be so sharp. And was his voice always that _high?_

“Why not?” he asks, proceeding to make the coffee anyway. He settles for an Americano; it’s too early for an espresso, even by his standards.

“I don’t like coffee that much,” Jongin says, “You at least have to put lots of milk and sugar into it.”

The machine whirs and spits out a stream of dark steamy coffee. It gurgles to a halt and Ten picks up the mug, blowing on it. He makes a ‘cheers’ motion with Jongin, who glares for a split second, and then shrugs. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” he says.

Ten takes two big gulps. It’s so bitter, it makes his taste buds recoil and he shudders at the taste.

“Told you,” Jongin says, smirking slightly, and Ten has never wanted to punch himself so badly.

“Great, so I can’t even drink coffee now?” he mutters. Taemin sinks down onto the chair besides Jongin and pinches his earlobe.

“Stop being a brat, everyone is frustrated,” he says.

“So,” Yukhei announces around a mouthful of bacon. “I’ve been doing some reading.”

“Did you find anything useful?” Baekhyun asks, joining Ten on the other side of the breakfast bar with a bowl of fruit and yogurt in hand.

Yukhei swallows and picks up his phone. “According to the internet, there’s a few reasons this could have happened. Have either of you been struck by lightning?” he asks, expression somber.

Ten waits for the punchline. “You’re not joking,” he deadpans and Yukhei shrugs.

“I can’t rule out the possibility,” he says sagely, face completely serious.

“Neither of them has ever been hit by lightning,” Taemin says kindly.

“Ok, were either of you given any suspicious items? Necklaces, rings, mystical glowing jewelry?”

_“No,_ Yukhei,” Jongin says, running his hands through his hair.

“Did either of you wish you could be the other person?”

“I mean there was that dumb interview question yesterday,” Ten says. “Maybe that?”

“But that doesn’t make any sense,” Baekhyun points out, “We all said people we would want to be. Like, why hasn’t Yukhei woken up as me if that was it?”

“I wouldn’t mind that,” Yukhei says dreamily and Baekhyun gives him a look. “I mean,” he coughs, “It _does_ say that it could be a weird quirk of the universe.”

“So Ten and I have swapped bodies because ‘the universe felt like it’?” Jongin snaps. He’s approaching the end of his patience. Taemin rubs his arm. “This is such bullshit.”

Ten has a response burning on the top of his tongue, but he’s cut off by Yukhei clearing his throat. “Um, Ten hyung,” he says shyly, and everyone turns to look at him. Yukhei’s ears are red. “You don’t think it has something to do with…what we talked about last ni-”

“No!” Ten says quickly, “No it doesn’t, leave it alone.”

“What were we talking about last night?” Taemin asks. He looks at them suspiciously. “What were _you_ two talking about?”

“Nothing,” Ten insists when they hear a cough. Ten squeaks. Jongin drops his orange peel and Baekhyun gulps.

“No one says anything about any of this,” he reminds them. “Everyone act natural.” Everyone nods frantically.

A few moments later, Mark stumbles in. He looks sleep warm and rumbled, tousling his hair. “Hi,” he chirps when he sees them, “Taeyong hyung is just in the shower.”

“Come in, we’ve got breakfast,” Baekhyun says. Mark wonders in and instantly his brow creases.

“Are people fighting?” he asks, “Something feels wrong.”

Jongin stares at Ten. Ten stares at Jongin. Taemin sighs like he’s done with both of them. “No one’s fighting, Mark,” he explains, “Jongin and Ten have just had a mix up, that’s all.”

Yukhei squawks at that and Ten makes a face. Mark nods seriously.

“Should they talk about it?” he asks, “When people used to fight in Dream, I’d make them talk about it-”

“We’re dealing with it,” Jongin says, and then smiles at Mark. Ten had never realized how deep his cheeks creased up.

Taeyong comes in a few minutes later. He’s got a towel wrapped up on his head, and he greets them in English. “How are you feeling?” Yukhei asks, prodding his skinny thigh with his toe when Taeyong passes him.

“Very delicate,” Taeyong says. He turns to look at him over his shoulder and puts a finger to his lips. “I’m sensitive,” he whispers dramatically.

“What are we doing today?” Mark asks, “It’s rehearsals for the Ellen Show, right?”

Yukhei starts to choke on his mouthful and Ten feels a bit sick. It hadn’t even occurred to him that they were going to need to perform, that he was going to need to perform as _Jongin._ Across the room, Jongin has gone very pale. “Ten hyung, are you ok?” Taeyong asks, “You look how I feel.”

_“Yes,”_ Ten and Jongin say at the same time. Taeyong squints at who he thinks is Jongin. The real Jongin coughs.

“I’m fine,” he says quickly, “Haven’t eaten much. Low…low blood sugar.” He stuffs a slice of orange into his mouth, and then balks at the taste. Mark and Taeyong frown at him.

Ten makes a face at Baekhyun who shrugs helplessly. This is _insane._

They send Yukhei off to distract Mark and Taeyong as they need to plan their next move. Ten can overhear him saying, “Hey Mark, Taeyong hyung, look what I can do with my thumb-” and he blinks.

“He really is something else,” Baekhyun murmurs in wonder as he leads them out and down the corridor to the games room where they’ll be out of earshot. Ten shrugs.

“What do we do?” Jongin asks, his voice wavering on hysterical. It isn’t a good look on himself, if Ten may say so. “I don’t know any of Ten’s parts.”

“Let’s not worry about that for now,” Taemin says, squeezing his shoulders. He seems to be remarkably calm at a time like this. Ten supposes that Taemin has had to see and handle almost every situation under the sun throughout his time as an idol; however, he doubts very much that anything has scraped the surface of the supernatural like this. “Look, we don’t know how long this might last,” Taemin rationalizes. “This could all be over with by tomorrow morning, so we can’t panic, ok? Let’s think about this logically. We know the group dances, right, we just have to work on your positions. If anyone says anything about why it’s a bit sloppy, we’ll tell them that you’re not feeling well.”

“And have them get pissed at us for not saying something sooner?” Jongin grouches.

“It’s better than the truth,” Taemin replies levelly.

“And the others?” Ten asks doubtfully, thinking of Yukhei miming having his thumb removed. Mark had looked fascinated, whilst Taeyong looked appropriately done with him.

“Don’t tell them,” Baekhyun says again. “The less people in on this the better. We have to be careful though, we can’t have you two slipping up answering for each other.” He looks pointedly at Ten. “Until this is over, _you_ have to be Jongin, and _you_ have to be Ten,” he tells each of them respectively.

Ten nods. His little slip up earlier was enough to remind him to catch himself. How hard could this be?


	2. 2.

Very hard, as it turns out.

It becomes apparent very quickly during their rehearsals that neither Ten nor Jongin know each other’s parts. After three runs where Jongin falls into Taeyong or Ten steps on Taemin’s foot, their choreographer pulls the two of them and Baekhyun to the side, along with their manager.

“What’s going on, guys?” the choreographer asks, voice patient but with an underlying waver about it. “Why are you two suddenly having such an issue with this?”

“They were both saying last night that they felt unwell,” Baekhyun explains.

Their manager raises a thin eyebrow. “This wouldn’t have anything to do with that fact that you were all up late last night drinking, would it?”

“Ten and Kai weren’t drinking,” Baekhyun says. It’s a _tiny_ white lie; Jongin had had a glass of wine, and Ten had joined him as well as having finished off Mark’s glass with Taeyong. What he _meant_ was, they hadn’t drunk enough to get _drunk._

Their manager ignores him. “Regardless, this is very disappointing, boys. Even if you were feeling unwell-” Ten bristles, “-You should have told us that. What if one of you really was ill and couldn’t perform, after how hard everyone has been working on this. Or what if you made one of the other members sick.” He turns to Baekhyun. “You’re a leader now. It’s your job to call out this kind of silly behavior, not encourage it. We’ve put a lot of faith in you, despite many people behind the scenes not believing that you’re ready for this type of responsibility. It would be such a shame for you to prove them right.”

Baekhyun’s mouth drops open and flaps like a goldfish. For the first time since Ten has known him, he seems genuinely lost for words. Their manager turns to Ten and Jongin.

“As for you two, we expect a lot better than this. You’re not children anymore. You were picked for this because we see something special in you. Do not betray the trust we’ve put in you to represent us well.” Ten’s cheeks flush with shame and anger. This is so unfair. He’s chewing on his bottom lip, desperately trying to hold his tongue, when the manager turns to him. “We are especially disappointed in you, Jongin,” he says and Ten’s stomach drops. Behind their manager, he sees his own body stiffen, as Jongin hears everything he is saying. “Ten is newer to this than you, he hasn’t slipped up before, but there is no excuse for you to not be taking this seriously. This isn’t good enough.”

Jongin trembles. Ten swallows, unable to find his voice. “I-I’m sorry,” he says quickly, ducking his head. Their manager scoffs.

“Don’t be sorry, be _better,”_ he says, “Now get back into the practice room, all of you.” The three boys file back into the training room, numb, whilst their manager stays outside to whisper urgently with the choreographer. The rest of the group are waiting for them to come back. They have been chatting amongst themselves, but they turn when the three men reenter, and their faces fall.

“What happened?” Taeyong asks.

“He’s such a dick,” Baekhyun spits, his pride clearly hurt.

“What did he say?” Yukhei asks. Taemin steps forward, sweet face pinched in worry as Jongin goes to stand in a corner by himself. Ten can see his shoulders are shaking from here.

They all watch as Taemin approaches him, putting a cautious hand on his shoulder, like Jongin is a wounded animal ready to lash out. “Hey, talk to me,” he says quietly. Jongin shakes his head, and Taemin gently wraps his arms around him. Jongin practically collapses into him, pressing his face into Taemin’s shoulder as he trembles. Ten notices Taeyong casting Mark a worried look, obviously thinking that their manager has bullied Ten to his wits end.

For the first time, Ten considers what it must be like for his hyungs from Exo and Shinee. He’d never appreciated how much pressure must be on them; on Baekhyun for constantly having to be positive and a mood maker; for Jongin to live up to his reputation as this smoky sexy bad boy; for Taemin to be…Taemin. All of them have this image of perfection painted onto them, and they’re expected to maintain it at all times. It’s incredibly unfair.

Jongin and Taemin share workaholic tendency’s; this much is clear. They both constantly have to be busy, be good, on the move, and if they aren’t then they’re failures, disappointments, wastes of time that their company could have spent grooming another idol.

The real kick in the teeth is that had Ten and Jongin’s bodies not switched for some insane unknown reason, Jongin _could_ still be good. He’d still be that perfect idol that SM had trained him up to be.

Being Jongin is hard.

Ten steps forwards. Taemin’s eyes widen as he approaches, but Ten ignores him, reaching for Jongin. “Hyung…” he begins quietly, and Taemin’s arms tighten.

“Hyung…?” he asks Mark whisper, and Yukhei starts to splutter, but then the door is opening, and the choreographer is coming back in. Instantly, Taemin’s arms drop back to his side, and Jongin rights himself, bending down to retie a shoelace that was already done up.

Their choreographer looks thoroughly chewed out as well, no doubt being told to fix whatever the problem was or else face the consequences. “Let’s get into positions guys,” they say.

Ten sees Taemin give Jongin’s arm a gentle squeeze and he gulps, running it through his head to try and remember Jongin’s cues.

All in all, it’s a disaster.

By the time they get back to the house, everyone is exhausted. Jongin isn’t speaking to anyone, which is thoroughly confusing Taeyong and Mark. Ten is trying to keep quiet because he just wants to _rant,_ but that’s such a Ten thing to do, and right now he isn’t Ten, he’s Jongin.

The car pulls in and Jongin hops out, going straight up to the room that he and Baekhyun share. They all hear the door slam and the resounding echo of the lock flipping shut. Baekhyun sighs softly. “I didn’t even get to change my clothes,” he says mournfully.

“Come on, hyung, you can wear some of my stuff,” Taemin says, taking Baekhyun by the arm and leading him upstairs.

Ten overhears Mark whispering to Yukhei. “Why did Ten hyung just go up to Baekhyun hyung and Jongin hyung’s room?”

Yukhei’s eyes widen and he stammers a little. Ten jumps in quickly. “Maybe he wants to talk to Baekhyun hyung,” he says. “He’s had a rough day, and would you want to room with this one when you were feeling low?”

He hooks an arm around Yukhei’s neck and rubs his knuckles over his head. Yukhei squawks. “I would,” Mark proclaims loyally, “Yukhei always cheers people up.”

“Are you ok, hyung?” Taeyong asks, “They went pretty hard on you today as well.” Truthfully, Ten feels like shit. There’s an uncomfortable feeling in his belly, guilt and embarrassment and worry all churned into one. He hasn’t even been stuck in Jongin’s body for a _day_ and already it’s proving to be the worst thing ever. He’s certain that Jongin blames him in some way for what happened; the man hasn’t spoken to him all day unless it’s too snap at him. Ten gets the frustration, he _does,_ but he doesn’t know how to fix this anymore than Jongin does. He’d also never realized how much pressure was laid on Jongin to be good all the time.

It’s an uncomfortable realization.

“Mark and I were going to take a swim in the pool to cool off before dinner,” Yukhei says. “Do you guys want to join us? I think we could all use the break.”

“I’ll come,” Taeyong shrugs.

“I might join you in a bit,” Ten says. He thinks. “I need to talk to Taemin hyung about something really quick- I mean Taemin- I mean-” He abruptly leaves the room.

As he’s heading up the stairs, Baekhyun wonders past him, dressed in a long-sleeved sweater Ten recognizes to be Taemin’s. “The others are in the pool, if you want to join them,” he says.

Baekhyun shakes his head. “Not a chance, I need a drink after today. Are you alright?”

“Not really,” Ten admits and Baekhyun nods.

“Listen, if you need to talk about it, you know where I am.”

“Thanks, hyung. Is Taemin hyung up there?”

“He’s on the balcony,” Baekhyun says. Ten thanks him and heads out that way.

He finds Taemin leaning against the glass fencing of the little balcony to his room. He has a lit cigarette between his lips which he’s puffing on constantly.

“Don’t let any paps catch you with that,” Ten says as he steps out onto the patio. Taemin jumps at the sound of his voice, scattering ash everywhere.

“You scared me,” he says. “You want one?”

“I don’t smoke.”

“Nini sometimes does.” Taemin sucks on his cigarette. “A lot of us used to do it back in the day. When we were training, it was the only time we could get a break. Then it became a coping mechanism when things got hard. It was fine as long as we didn’t get caught.”

“How did that work out for you?”

Taemin makes a face. “I got such a ripping from my hyungs for those pictures,” he admits, “Till Jinki hyung got caught with a vape pen.”

“Have you spoken to any of them?” Ten asks and Taemin looks sad.

“Not for a while,” he admits. “They’re all busy right now. I do miss them though.” He sighs heavily. “Are you ok? I didn’t get anything out of Jongin, but he seemed pretty upset. What did they say to you?”

“The usual,” Ten replies bitterly, “We’re disappointments, we’re letting everyone down, we’re not doing anything right.” There’s a sharp click; Taemin is lighting another cigarette, and his hands are trembling a little. Ten watches him do this. “They didn’t actually have a go at me that badly,” he says. Taemin exhales heavily, smoke billowing out of his nose. “But they ripped into Baekhyun hyung, told him that people didn’t think he was ready to be a leader and he was just proving their point. And Jongin hyung… They told him he should be taking this more seriously, that he needed to do better.” He sighs. “Though I know they weren’t actually saying it to _me,_ it really hurt,” he admits.

“Jongin works so hard,” Taemin says quietly. “People think he’s really cold and like he doesn’t care, but he’s like that _because_ he cares. He’s always worked hard.”

“I think he’s mad at me,” Ten blurts out, anxiety bleeding into his voice, and Taemin turns to him.

“It’s not you,” he promises, “Jongin is mad at himself. He’s scared and confused, and that’s making him _more_ scared.”

“But so am I,” Ten protests, “This is scary for me as well, and he’s acting like he’s the only one effected by it.”

Taemin throws down his cigarette. “Come here,” he says and Ten does, letting Taemin wrap him up in a hug. He smells like cigarette smoke and laundry detergent, having changed his clothes when he got back. It’s weird; the few times that Ten and Taemin have hugged before, Ten has had to look up at Taemin. Jongin’s body is slightly taller, and it feels weird being the bigger person.

Taemin’s body curls around Jongin’s frame so naturally. His arms are around Ten’s neck, head nestled into the crook of his shoulder and jaw, and Ten sinks into the embrace. He closes his eyes and tries to remember the feeling of Taemin in his arms, coupled with the way he’d seen him touch Jongin in Ten’s body earlier. It’s a bitter moment, having those visuals in his mind and knowing that, whilst it was his body Taemin had been holding, his cheek he’d been stroking, it was still for Jongin inside.

Taemin pulls away, and for a minute, they look at each other. Taemin’s eyes stare into him, much like they must have done with Jongin earlier, and a small hand cups his cheek. “It’s so weird,” Taemin murmurs, thumb absently sliding down his cheekbone and Ten resists the temptation to nuzzle into him. “You look like him, but I know it’s you in there.”

For a split second, Taemin’s eyes flicker between Ten’s lips and his eyes and Ten thinks for a terrifying moment that Taemin is going to kiss him. Taemin seems to become aware of their position and then he pulls away, folding his arms around himself.

Ten takes a deep breath, heart pounding. “There’s some things I need to ask you,” he says.

Taemin sighs, but then he nods. “Yes,” he says, “Ok, that’s fair.” They can hear Yukhei and Taeyong whooping down in the pool, and Taemin bites his lip. “Not here though.” He takes Ten by the wrist and pulled him back into the house.

They pass Baekhyun who is lying on the couch, AirPods in and a cool flannel pressed over his eyes. There’s a glass of whiskey-on-the-rocks on the floor next to him, and Ten feels a burst of sympathy for him. Baekhyun puts on a brave face and a happy smile, but Ten can see that the promotion schedule and the responsibility of looking after all of them is starting to take its toll.

Taemin leads him into the kitchen and invites him to take a seat at the breakfast bar. Without asking, Taemin opens the fridge and opens two beers. He hands one to Ten and takes a seat opposite him, drinking half of his in one go.

Ten tries not to watch the dip in his throat too much. He fails. Ten sets his glass down and swallows a hiccup. “Ok, shoot,” he says.

Ten nods and tries to think of where to begin. “So, you and hyung,” he says, picking at the label on his drink. “You’re… together?”

“Um…” Taemin begins, “It’s… complicated.”

“I spoke to Baekhyun hyung,” Ten says, “I don’t know if he thought I was going to gossip to everyone I knew about you and Jongin hyung, but I won’t.” Taemin sags in relief.

“Thank you,” he says softly. “I’m… really sorry that you had to find out like this, like… that. Jongin and I, we don’t tell people. It’s too dangerous.”

“Who else knows?” Ten asks and Taemin thinks.

“Everyone in Exo knows. And my hyungs, they all knew… it was kind of obvious, because Jongin would come over to the apartment, or I’d stay over at his. It took them a while to work out what exactly was going on, but when they _did,_ my hyungs were so good about it. They’d make excuses for me so I could spend time with him or would let us have the room to ourselves so we could, well… y’know.”

Ten thinks about him and Johnny; frantic fumbles in any short window they could get because there was never enough time. He could count on one hand the number of times he they’d been able to take their time, to _make love_ as it were, because there was always something else going on. He’s envious, he realizes, that his hyungs had people looking out for them, supporting them, trying to ensure this affair could continue.

He clears his throat. “What does complicated mean?” he asks, “Because hyung’s had relationships, right? Were they just fake, or like…?”

Taemin drains his beer, and Ten pushes his untouched one across the table. Taemin takes it, smiling gratefully. His mouth is a bit wobbly. “They weren’t fake,” he says. “Nini and I ran on such different schedules all the time; sometimes it would be months before I’d get to see him again and when I did, it wasn’t for anything longer than ten minutes. I couldn’t expect him to just be with me in all that time, and, actually, I didn’t want him too. He’s a young man, we both are, and he has certain… needs, yes? So, we agreed that we’d keep the relationship between us open, and he could have the freedom to date who he wanted when we couldn’t be together. My biggest fear was that he would start to resent _me_ if I held on to him too tightly, or worse; I didn’t want him to get so desperate that he’d do something reckless or stupid. Like, all of his dating scandals combined wouldn’t even come close to how destroying it would be if someone were to leak that he was in a relationship with me.”

Taemin takes a deep breath. “When I heard about SuperM, I… I was overjoyed, honestly. My hyungs are gone right now, y’know, and it’s hard to find people who really understand, who know this lifestyle the way in which _we_ do. I liked doing my solo stuff, but it could get so lonely at times, and Jongin… all of that stuff happened earlier in the year with him dating. But it just felt right, like this is how it was supposed to be. And I get to be with him for longer than half an hour, I get to be with my friend again. It’s- it’s wonderful.” He pauses, picking up his drink but not actually putting it to his lips.

“How could you stand it?” Ten asks after a moment. “I couldn’t bear the thought of someone I care about being with another person.” He almost can’t now. Seeing Jongin and Taemin interact with one another, knowing that they share this bittersweet soul deep relationship and secret life together; it has his guts twisting with envy and shame. He wants _that._ He loves Johnny and he knows Johnny loves him, and they’ll always be close, but Ten has never had the chance to have a relationship that deep with anyone before.

Taemin puts his drink down and puts his hands between his knees, rubbing them together like he’s cold. He says, “Because I knew he’d come back to me. I know he’ll always come back to me.”

Ten’s heart aches. Then his face starts to flush, as he thinks about something else. “Ok, I have another question,” he says, “Earlier, you said, you and hyung, when you dirty talk-”

“Oh god-” Taemin pales.

“You talk about the rest of the band?”

“Ten-”

He’s saved when they hear a shuffling and a small cough, and when they look up Jongin is hovering in the entrance to the kitchen. He looks rough; his hair is sticking up and his cheeks look swollen. Ten knows he’s been crying, because that’s what he looks like when he’s had a good sob.

Taemin holds out a hand to him, any embarrassment forgotten. “Hey, baby,” he says softly. Jongin’s eyes widen and he glances at Ten. “He knows,” Taemin explains quietly, “It’s kind of a long story.”

Jongin floats over and Taemin puts an arm around him. He looks so small, curled up against Taemin’s side. Ten swallows the bubble of jealousy he feels. “Are you ok, hyung?” he asks.

Jongin’s cheeks darken. “How are you so calm about all of this?” he asks, voice croaky.

“Trust me, I’m panicking,” Ten assures him. Jongin grunts and folds himself further around Taemin, who pets his hair soothingly. Ten clears his throat. “So, what’s the plan?” he asks. “We’ve got the recording for the Ellen show tomorrow, and we don’t know the dance moves, or the words to each other’s parts.”

“We have to practice,” Taemin says. Jongin groans softly into his side. “I know the dances and the break downs; we can eat and then I’ll help you.”

“We should go now,” Jongin says, his voice muffled by the swampy fabric of Taemin’s shirt. Ten gets to his feet, ready to agree.

“Uh-uh, food first,” Taemin insists, “Everyone is exhausted, including you two.” He’s getting out his phone to order take out when Baekhyun comes in, empty glass in hand. He refills it with whiskey, and no one calls him out on it.

“Is everything still Freaky Friday?” he asks. When everyone looks blank, he points at Ten’s figure. “You’re still Jongin?” Jongin nods. “And you’re Ten?” He points at Jongin’s body. Ten nods as well. “Great. I was hoping this was all a bad dream.”

Jongin has hooked an arm around Taemin’s shoulder to watch him order everyone’s dinner. Ten bristles a little at the sight when Taemin absently slides an arm around his waist. He catches himself and schools his features, though fast enough apparently because Baekhyun notices.

He clicks his fingers at the pair. “Right, we need to prepare,” he says. Taemin and Jongin break apart guiltily.

“For what?” Taemin asks.

“What we’re going to do if this hasn’t gone away by tomorrow.”

“I know the dance,” Taemin explains, “I’m going to take Ten and Jongin to practice it after dinner.”

“That’s great,” Baekhyun says, “But we haven’t thought about the other things. How are you going to shower, sleep, piss, for god’s sake? Have either of you used the bathroom today?”

Both Jongin and Ten shake their heads. They haven’t drunk anything today, but now that Baekhyun has brought it up, Ten thinks he could go.

“These are the things we need to think about,” Baekhyun continues. “Mark and Taeyong still don’t know, and I’d like to keep it that way. So, Ten, I think you should room with me, and Jongin, you should go with Yukhei. He knows what’s going on, so he won’t question it.” Everyone nods in agreement. “One more thing,” Baekhyun says suddenly, and waves a finger at Taemin and Jongin. _“This.”_

“What?” Jongin asks, immediately on guard.

“You two need to stop being so touchy-touchy with one another.” Baekhyun talks over Jongin when he starts to protest. “No, no, no, I’m talking. Listen, if you want to come out to the rest of SuperM when this is all over and be as couplie as you like, you can go right ahead, I think it’s great. But right now, you’re in Ten’s body, and I don’t think the others will respond too well to the idea of Ten and Taemin snuggling up like they’re in the honeymoon stage of a new-born relationship. Also, whilst I know this it’s you in there, Jongin, it’s Ten’s body, it’s not exactly fair.”

Jongin is pouting but Taemin nods. “No, we understand, don’t we,” he says and, after a moment, Jongin nods as well.

Baekhyun finishes his drink. “I’m going to go and round up the children,” he says, knuckling an eye. This leaves the three of them alone in the kitchen. There’s an awkward silence.

“I need the bathroom,” Ten says and Jongin gulps. “What’s the low down? No touching?”

“You’re going to have to touch it,” Jongin replies, a little bitter.

“Well, should I wear gloves or something?”

“This is stupid,” Taemin points out, “Why don’t you both agree to… to not look, maybe?”

Jongin and Ten look at each other. “Deal,” they both say. Ten escapes out of the kitchen quickly after that. There’s a downstairs bathroom, so he ducks into there and locks the door firmly behind him. He stares at the toilet; he feels like it’s mocking him. After a whole day of waiting, he’s suddenly bursting for a piss. He gets to work on his fly and reaches into his underwear, pausing.

“Ok,” he says to himself, leaning back and staring at the florescent bathroom light until he starts to see spots behind his eyes. “You can do this, Leechaiyapornkul, don’t be a pussy.”

Closing his eyes, he takes a hold of Jongin’s dick and pulls it out of his boxers. He tries not to think too much about what he’s feeling, but he can’t help it. Jongin is uncut, average sized and thick. He feels weighty in his palm. Ten gulps as his belly pulses in arousal.

He has to kill any desire quickly, so instead he mentalizes their manager in a thong, and that quickly dampens any sexy thoughts he may have been having. He finishes and stuffs himself back into his pants, flushing and immediately washing his hands. He washes his face as well, hoping to remove some of the redness in his cheeks and cool himself down.

As he’s walking back to the kitchen, he can hear soft whispering. Something compels him to take the weight of his feet, so he tiptoes closer, ears prickling.

“-really want a cigarette,” he can hear Jongin saying. It’s weird in his own higher pitched voice. “I could smell the smoke on you, smells so good.”

“I don’t think Ten would appreciate that very much,” Taemin replies and Ten swallows.

“I don’t think Ten likes me very much,” Jongin says. Ten balks at this; Jongin thinks he _doesn’t_ like him?

“You have been being a dick to him today,” Taemin says.

“It’s not just that. He doesn’t like it when I touch you.”

“You’re being ridiculous.”

“Min, it’s _my_ face, I’ve seen it enough times in the mirror to know when I’m pissed about something.” Ten presses himself up against the wall, barely breathing. His heart is pounding in his ears.

“Well, he knows that we’re together and he seemed fine with it. He won’t tell anyone; he was really cool about it. I doubt he’s got a problem with it.”

“Maybe he likes you,” Jongin says suddenly and Ten’s stomach feels like it’s going to drop.

Taemin laughs. “Now you really _are_ being ridiculous,” he says. 

“Is that so hard to believe? You’re pretty. Ten is pretty too.”

Ten almost shrieks.

_“Jongin.”_

“It would explain a lot, that’s all I’m saying. You should flirt with him a bit, see what he does.”

“I’m not going to do that, and you’re being silly,” Taemin hisses.

They hear the back door opening, the sound of the others coming in from the pool and fall quiet. “Just think about it,” Ten hears Jongin say quietly, as Yukhei bounds in, leaving a trail of pool water behind him.

Ten hangs back, not wanting to seem like he was eves dropping too much. “Are you feeling better now, Ten hyung?” he hears Mark ask Jongin in English, and Jongin grunts in reply. He drifts in to join them, staying close to Baekhyun.

“How was the pool?” Taemin asks. He looks as composed as ever. Ten’s eyes flicker on and off of him nervously.

“It was awesome,” Yukhei beams. He hasn’t toweled himself off properly and is dripping water wherever he goes. Ten’s tempted to scold him that he’ll catch a cold. “You guys should come with us next time.”

Ten feels a hand clamp down onto his shoulder and he jumps; it’s Jongin. “You said Taemin hyung loves swimming, right hyung?” Jongin says, and he squeezes. Taemin is watching them with an unimpressed look. “I think he likes it as an excuse to show off.”

Ten’s heart thumps in his ears and he frowns. He’s saved, mercifully, by the sound of their intercom buzzing; it’s the delivery man with their takeout. “I’ll get it,” he squeaks, scuttling down the kitchen with his tail between his legs. His face burns with embarrassment as he pays the delivery man, mumbling responses to him in English.

Absently it occurs to him that Jongin wouldn’t speak English as well as he does; he reminds himself that, should this swap last, he will need to tone it down. Then he vows to just not speak at all.

When he returns with the food, the group attack it with the same gusto as a pack of hungry animals. Ten isn’t hungry; his stomach is churning for all the wrong reasons, and he picks at his food uselessly.

After dinner, he heads up to the home gym, where Taemin is moving around weights to create space. “Hey,” the older man greets him, not looking up as he starts to sync up his phone with the speaker. “You ready to sweat?” Ten balks at the suggestion and Taemin laughs, that high pitched giggle of his.

Jongin trapes in not long after, dragging his feet. He scowls at Taemin. “What are you so happy about?” he asks miserably and Taemin rolls his eyes.

“We’re in for a long evening, let me have some joy,” he says, starting up the music. “Ok, here’s how we’re going to do this. We’ll go over the group dances together and correct your blocking. The two of you will have to communicate with each other about where you normally stand. Then on any solo bits, you can teach each other.”

Jongin turns to Ten. “I’m in the middle,” he says and Ten nods, jumping into a makeshift position.

They practice for ages, with Taemin going over each bit with them and pointing out any obvious mistakes they’re making. After a while, the door to the gym opens and Baekhyun comes in, holding a mug of sweet tea and looking tired. He takes a seat on the weightlifting bench, which allows Taemin to jump in with them and help them arrange their blocking.

Yukhei comes in a bit later; his hair is rumpled like he’s been in bed. He also joins in, acting as a stand in marker for Mark and Taeyong, who are blissfully asleep down the hall.

After several hours Baekhyun, who has been nearly falling asleep, waves at them. “It’s as good as we’re going to get it,” he assures them. Everyone is tired and sweaty now. Ten is out of breath, arms and legs aching from hours of dance. He glances at the clock; they can probably get in only a few hours of sleep.

He glances over at Jongin, who is bent double with his hands on his knees. He’s sweating profusely, skin shiny. He sees Ten looking and gives him a subtle nod.

“Good job, everyone,” Baekhyun says, voice croaky. He glances at Ten and Jongin. “Let’s go, Ten, you’re with me tonight.”

“I’ll be there in a minute,” Ten says, as Baekhyun hooks an arm around Yukhei’s shoulder, guiding the exhausted younger boy out of the room.

Taemin is sitting on the floor, resting on his hands with his legs spread. “Hey,” he calls softly to Ten. “You did good. You both did.”

“What if it’s not enough?” Ten asks, sitting down beside him. Jongin crawls over to join them. “What if we mess it up?”

“We can’t,” Jongin says simply. “We have to get this right, it’s not fair on the others if we don’t-”

“Stop,” Taemin says to him firmly, pinching his cheeks to get him to shush. “It’s going to be ok.”

“Hyung…” Ten says reluctantly.

“The more you both worry about this, the more likely to mess up you’ll be. You’re going to be great, _both of you.”_

Ten dares not look at him. He feels so babyish and small in comparison to his hyungs. When no one says anything again, he chances a glance up. Taemin and Jongin are looking at one another. There’s an intensity to their gaze, one that has Ten feeling awkward and out of place.

“Goodnight,” he says quickly. This seems to wake the other men up, as they jerk to their feet. Ten showers faster than he ever has in his life. He has to ignore the urge to look down as he cleans himself all over, quickly soaping up his dick and balls and rinsing so fast that he gets shampoo in his eye.

Ten is heading up to Baekhyun’s room when Jongin passes him. He is in a similar state, showered and red faced. “Hey,” he says to Ten, who jumps.

“Hyung?”

“You, uh… you did good today,” Jongin tells him, looking awkward. Ten doesn’t like that look on himself. “Listen, I’m sorry if I’ve been being a dick to you today,” Jongin continues. “This is… really fucking with me and I was taking it out on you. But you’re the only other person who will know how I’m feeling so I’m sorry.”

Ten swallows thickly. “It’s ok,” he says, “I understand.”

He ignores how Jongin was coming from the direction of Taemin’s room. Jongin gives him a weak smile. “We should rest. It’s a big day tomorrow.”

“Yes. Goodnight, hyung.” Ten walks blankly to the room he is now sharing with Baekhyun. Their leader is passed out in his own bed, snoring softly. Ten sighs, body sore from all of the dancing he’s done today.

He climbs into the bed, drawing the sheets up around himself, ready to pass out into a deep sleep. The bed feels uncomfortable and unfamiliar. Ten likes to sleep on his front, but it doesn’t feel right in Jongin’s bed, in Jongin’s body. The mattress has molded to a certain grove, and Ten spends ages shuffling around trying to find a comfortable position. His phone says it’s three thirty and he groans softly.

It’s going to be a long night.


	3. 3.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not as entirely confident in this chapter as I have been with other works in the past. Ye be warned, there be filler ahead.

Ten’s eyes feel sticky and yet dry at the same time when he hears shuffling around the room. He stretches and groans. Every muscle aches.

“Did you sleep ok?” a voice asks.  
  
Ten squints. Baekhyun is standing at the edge of his bed, shirt off and towel hooked over his arm ready for a shower. Ten groans again.  
  
“I know that my face gets all swollen and puffy in the mornings, but there’s no need to be rude,” Baekhyun says, reaching over and pinching his big toe.  
  
“’m sorry, hyung…” Ten sighs, rubbing hard at his itchy eyes. “’was hoping it was all a bad dream…”  
  
“You and me both, kid. Try not to go back to sleep, I’m gonna take a quick shower and then you can hop in.” Ten nods weakly.  
  
Baekhyun disappears into the bathroom and he hears the sound of the shower running. Sitting up, Ten rubs his face again and mentally searches for the will to get out of bed. After counting down from fifteen, he swings his legs and rises, limbs popping from where he’d slept funny earlier on. Stumbling over to the mirror, he winces at the sight of Jongin’s legendary bed head.  
  
Showering is another quick affair. It makes him sad, because Ten has always loved showering. He enjoys long hot baths, pampering himself and leaving his skin soft and smooth. He likes feeling clean. This whole body-swapping nonsense is ruining everything he likes apparently.  
  
In the kitchen, Yukhei, Mark and Jongin are making themselves breakfast. They’ve got a little bit of time before the car gets there to take them to the studios to get ready, so Ten sets about making himself some toast. Toast is safe, right?  
  
Jongin blinks at him, and Ten knows that he is feeling exactly the same way. “How did everyone sleep?” he asks, testing the waters.  
  
Yukhei titters nervously and Jongin shrugs. “Not great,” he admits.  
  
“You?” 

“Nerves were keeping me awake.” Jongin squeezes his shoulder in sympathy.  
  
“Are you guys nervous?” Mark asks in that tone that he has like he’s just discovered the secret to life itself. “Man, I slept like a baby.” He takes a massive bite out of a slice of watermelon and makes a happy little sound. “Wow, this is so good, you guys want to try?”  
  
Jongin’s eyes are wide as he looks at the array of fruit in Mark’s bowl. He opens his mouth to ask for some, and Ten stamps on his foot. “Ow!”  
  
“Whoops,” Ten says breezily. “Sorry, _Ten.”_  
  
Jongin scowls at him. “It’s fine… _hyung,”_ he mumbles, reaching for his coffee and taking a sip. The corners of his mouth dip like he’s in pain and he swallows thickly.  
  
Mark is staring at them like they’ve gone mad. “You weren’t kidding when you said you were nervous, huh,” he says.  
  
“Can I try some watermelon?” Yukhei interrupts and Mark gets distracted trying to see how big of a bite Yukhei can take of the fruit.  
  
Taemin wonders into the kitchen, hair damp and face dewy. He squeezes Jongin’s shoulder and rests a hand on Ten’s hip, little palm warm against the prominent hipbone. “How are you guys feeling?” he asks, squeezing again. Ten is freaking out as Taemin’s small fingers drum an irregular beat against his hip. Jongin’s eyes are trained on it, mouth set in an unhappy line.  
  
“The same as yesterday, hyung,” he says, eyebrow quirking once and Taemin immediately understands. He drifts over to Jongin, leaving Ten to try not to hyperventilate.  
  
“Gosh, I hope whatever illness is bugging you goes away soon,” he says. Mark offers him some watermelon then, and Ten doesn’t miss the way Jongin’s eyes follow every move that Taemin makes.  
  
After this, Mark warns them that he’s going to use the bathroom, leaving the four of them alone. Jongin sighs unhappily the moment that Mark is out of earshot. “I was hoping this would be gone,” he says, flopping over the breakfast table. He reaches for the fruit bowl and starts to peel a banana, taking a bite and then gagging a little. “I hate how everything tastes.”  
  
“Now you’ve just wasted that,” Taemin tuts, taking it off of him and beginning to eat the banana himself. Ten has to turn away from the sight of Taemin wrapping his lips around the fruit, how his cheek bones hollow and his plump lips stand out.  
  
“What are we going to do?” Yukhei asks. “For the interview, I mean. Encase no one’s noticed, our English-” He points at Jongin, Taemin and himself, “Isn’t great.”  
  
“That’s a point,” Jongin adds. “Before Yukhei came in, Mark started talking to me in English. I didn’t understand a lot of it, so I just nodded. They’re going to rely on me to answer some questions.”  
  
“Fuck,” Ten mutters. He’d planned on just keeping his mouth shut for the interview process. “Ok, when we get there, we’ll get the brief and I’ll tell you what to say.”  
  
“The managers texted out the questions they'll likely ask earlier this morning,” Taemin says, whipping out his phone. “I’ll find them now.”  
  
They hear Mark calling for Yukhei, who groans. “If he’s messed up the toilet again, I swear-” He slopes off, as Ten and Jongin crowd around Taemin’s phone.  
  
“Look, here.” Taemin shows them. “Fan names, Jopping, relationships- _oh…”_  
  
He and Jongin look at each other, ridiculously close, and Ten doesn’t miss the way that Ten’s pupils get bigger, the corners of his mouth wavering a little. “Min…” Jongin says softly. “  
  
Sorry,” Taemin mumbles. “It just, it took me by surprise, that’s all.” Ten slowly backs away, letting them have their space. He feels sick. He starts puttering around, piling up everyone’s breakfast things to put them in the dishwasher. “I wish I could kiss you right now,” he hears Taemin murmur and he drops a knife. It clatters to the ground, shattering the illusion.  
  
When he straightens up, face hot with embarrassment, Taemin and Jongin have retreated to an acceptable distance apart. Taemin rubs furiously at his face and then pushes his hair back. “I’m sorry,” he says, looking at Ten as he does so. “That was really inappropriate of me, I’m sorry.”  
  
“It’s ok,” Ten says, and hates how his voice breaks. Jongin’s head is hanging down. They look so guilty, and Ten feels bad. “Y’know, I think you guys should come out when this is over.” They look at him in shock and he’s quick to rectify himself. “Only to the group, I mean. But you shouldn’t have to hide this.” He gestures at that, knife still in hand. It feels like he’s twisting it into his own back. “You deserve to be able to show affection for one another without people judging you.”  
  
“I don’t know, Ten…” Jongin says, brow pinched.  
  
“Taemin hyung told me all of your groups knew you were together. But we’re you’re group now too. You guys should be allowed to be together in the privacy of your own home.”  
  
“Do you think everyone would be ok with it?” Jongin asks.  
  
Ten frowns. “They’ll have to be,” he says, a little fiercely. “If they’re not, I’ll _make_ them be ok with it.” Jongin is staring at him in wonder.  
  
Taemin laces his fingers with Jongin’s and gives him hand a tight squeeze. “Close your mouth, baby, something might fly in,” he teases.  
  
“What… the hell?” a voice asks.  
  
They all freeze, and then turn to look at the doorway where Taeyong is standing. His eyes focus on where Taemin is still holding Jongin’s hand, or to Taeyong’s eyes, Ten’s hand. Taemin instantly drops their fingers like he’s been burned.  
  
“Um…” Ten says, “How much of that did you hear?”  
  
“Oh, I heard a bit,” Taeyong says. His voice sounds funny, tone clipped and short. “Like the bit about where hyung wants to kiss Ten, or the bit where Jongin hyung wants you to come out to all of us as, what… a couple?”  
  
“Hyung-” Ten begins and Taeyong squints at him. “Why are you calling me that?” he asks, “You’re being weird, Jongin hyung. Ten, how long has this been happening?” He looks at Ten’s body as he says it, because he wouldn’t dare be so blunt with Taemin.  
  
“Taeyong hyung, wait-” Ten says again but Taeyong ignores him, instead looking at Jongin still.  
  
“Why wouldn’t you tell me?” he asks, and he actually looks hurt. “I know that I made some mistakes in the past, that I said some stupid stuff, but I didn’t think you’d keep something like this from me. Hyung said all of the groups knew, did you tell the others? Did you tell _Johnny?”_  
  
“Taeyong-” Jongin splutters.  
  
“I can’t believe you told Jongin hyung before _me,”_ Taeyong says suddenly, “I thought we were friends.”  
  
“Taeyong, wait-” Ten says but Taeyong has already turned on his heel and stormed out of the room.  
  
Ten looks in horror between Taemin and Jongin. Jongin puts his head in his hands. “Well, we fucked that up,” he says bluntly.  
  
“Shit,” Ten breathes, heart pounding. He feels hot and clammy, like his skin is too tight for his bones.  
  
“Taeyong, Yukhei, Mark, let’s go! Managers impending arrival expected in three minutes!” Baekhyun calls as he breezes into the kitchen. “Jeez, if I’d known what it was like trying to keep an eye on everyone, I never would have wanted to be a leader.” He stops when he sees them all standing there, Jongin standing stoic, Taemin looking sheepish and Ten looking three seconds way from a full-blown panic attack. Immediately, he raises an eyebrow. “Oh fuck,” he says. “What have you all done now?”

  
*

The car ride over to the studios is an awkward affair. Taeyong won’t talk to anybody, sitting with his AirPods in. When Yukhei pesters him enough, he grinds out that he’s trying to practice his English in preparation for the interview. No one bothers him after that.  
  
Baekhyun is pissed off with them. _“I can’t believe you’d be so careless,”_ he’d scolded them as he watched Ten fumble with his shoelaces whilst waiting for the younger boys. _“You owe me a bottle of wine for the stress you put me through. Two bottles in fact. I want to call Junmyeon hyung, this leader stuff sucks.”  
  
“We’re sorry,”_ Taemin had hissed back. _“It was an accident, if we’d known he was there-”_  
  
He’d been cut off abruptly by the sound of feet pounding down the stairs, Yukhei and Mark clattering in. Taeyong had followed not far behind, fiddling with the straps of his backpack and not looking anyone in the eye.  
  
Mark has been trying to talk to Jongin in English for a while now. Jongin keeps shooting Ten these little desperate looks, only grunting along in tones that vary between a positive or a negative to convey he’s acknowledging what Mark is saying. Ten knows he barely understands half of what is coming out of Mark’s mouth, and eventually their youngest gives up.  
  
“What is with everyone today?” Ten hears him muttering to himself as he digs his phone out of his pocket to play _Fruit Ninja._ He swipes at the screen aggressively, small mouth forming in a little pout.  
  
The atmosphere that hangs over the car is a somber one. It’s setting Ten’s teeth on edge. He hates fighting, when _anyone_ is doing it, but in groups it always seems worse. The nature of their industry relies so heavily on their reactions too each other, and with how devoted (see; _eagle eyed_) fans can be, whenever something is off, it’s picked up on straight away. Ten isn’t sure how he’s going to be able to sit on the couch and act jovial, when behind the scenes no one is talking to one another.  
  
Up until now, it’s been too good to be true. Getting to work in a group with some of his closest friends and getting to know his sunbae’s that he immensely respects had been a wonder in and of itself; to find out that they were all as cool as Ten had always hoped they’d be was even better. Perhaps it was foolish of him to think they could get through this without any hiccups.  
  
Then again, finding out that two of his hyungs (who he just so happens to fancy a little bit) have been in a long-term relationship, and body swapping with one of those said hyungs is hardly what one might call a hiccup.  
  
He rests his head against the window and swallows around the growing sick feeling in his stomach.  
  
When they get to the studios, it’s all action stations. People have camped out over night; Ten can hear them chattering away as he’s being ushered into the building. They have to rehearse, and as they work their way through _‘Jopping’_ and _‘I Can’t Stand the Rain’_, he becomes uncomfortable under the watchful eyes of their management team.  
  
When they finish their run through a few times, their manager sniffs, nods, and says “It’ll do.”  
  
Ten swallows a rude remark. Next it’s on to hair and makeup. Leaning against the wall, Ten watches with his arms folded as their makeup team pull Taemin and Yukhei away first to try and work miracles on the bags under their eyes. “Honestly, Taemin ah,” he hears one of them tut as she plasters colour corrector on his dark circles. “What did you do, stay up all night?”  
  
“You know how it is, noona,” Taemin says, not even wincing when one of them gets into his tangled hair with a fine-toothed comb. “Work hard, play hard.”  
  
“Do we want to know how you boys play?” one of them asks and they titter; Ten knows some of them have been working with the company since Taemin’s early days in Shinee. He wonders how much their cordi-noonas _really_ know about them all. Probably more than they give them credit for. Ten watches as they whisper and giggle whilst fussing over Taemin, only to fall silent when one of their manager’s shoots them a sharp look.  
  
“Jongin, let’s go,” one of the makeup artists calls to him, and Ten wonders over, settling in the seat next to Mark.  
  
“Is this seat taken?” he asks.  
  
Mark looks over at him and beams; Ten is so incredibly fond of him. “Does everyone seem kind of … _off_ to you today, hyung?” Mark asks, eyes shut whilst the makeup artist dabs his eyes with a soft apricot coloured shadow.  
  
“How do you mean?” Ten asks quietly and Mark hums softly.  
  
“I don’t know, everyone is a bit on edge, I guess. Something has upset Ten hyung and Taeyong hyung, I think.” Mark turns in his chair to look over at where Jongin is sat beside Taeyong. Neither of them are speaking to one another; Ten can feel the awkward energy radiating around them from here. The makeup artist taps Mark on his cheek and he obediently turns back to face the mirror. “They might be fighting,” Mark shrugs, and then shuts up when Vaseline is smeared onto his mouth.  
  
Ten swallows as foundation is patted into his cheek. In the mirror, he can also see Baekhyun is watching Taeyong and Jongin, mouth pinched in a grim line. “This sucks,” he mutters.  
  
“Don’t crease up your forehead like that,” Noona tells him, and Ten obediently relaxes his face, though his fingers start fidgeting in an unconscious nervous tick.  
  
“I still say we should put them in a room together and make them talk it out,” Mark says. He says it in English, and absently, Ten grunts in agreement. “I just hope that Ten hyung cheers up before the interview. I can’t answer all the questions by myself.”  
  
Shit, that’s a point.  
  
Trying not to fidget in his seat, Ten waits as patiently as he can until he’s given the all clear by the makeup artists that he’s good to go. Then he’s out of his chair and pounding across the room to where Jongin sits, fiddling with his phone.  
  
“You ok?” he asks when he sees him. Jongin shakes his head.  
  
“That was one of the most awkward experiences of my entire life,” he admits. “Taeyong didn’t look at me, once. I tried to apologize, and he just ignored me.”  
  
“It’s ok,” Ten says, “I’ll fix this.” He isn’t quite sure how he is going to solve this, but he’ll think of something. “You wanna learn some English quickly?” he asks, “I think Mark wants to bounce of off Ten in this interview, I’ll teach you come phrases.”  
  
Jongin nods, and Ten takes him over to a quieter corner to walk him through a few basic answers. It’s not perfect, but Ten’s English has always been slightly stilted anyway, and he knows that Mark will end up fielding the questions anyway. Out of the corner of his eye, Ten sees Taeyong watching the two of them carefully. He’s chewing on his lower lip, fucking up the gloss that the noona’s so delicately applied.  
  
Ten needs to fix this, and fast.  
  


  
*

  
They wait in the wings, heels and fingers vibrating with nerves.  
  
“Taeyong,” Jongin says quietly, and Taeyong flinches but doesn’t say anything. “Come on, I said I was sorry.”  
  
Ten watches how Taeyong’s Adam’s apple bobs as the younger man swallows. Then he looks at Jongin and says, “You need to use honorifics when you speak to your elders.”  
  
Jongin looks affronted. Then his face morphs into one of anger. It isn’t pretty on his own face, Ten thinks. “You little-”  
  
_“Enough!”_ Baekhyun snaps, in a tone Ten has never heard him use before. Mark actually jumps, Taemin stares at his shoes and even Jongin looks shocked to hear his bandmate use such a tone. Baekhyun glares at them both and then sighs. “I know you’re both hurting right now,” he says, softer, trying to soothe the rift, “But this isn’t the time or place. So, pack it in and save it for later, ok?”  
  
“Yes, hyung,” Taeyong says, chastised. Ten can see the tense of Jongin’s jaw as he grinds his teeth in self-righteous anger. Eventually he bows his head and nods.  
  
“Sorry,” he mumbles, and then tacks on, _“hyung,”_ for good measure. Baekhyun sighs like it’s taken it out of him. Ten feels a hand on his arm, and he looks over at Taemin who gives him a small, sympathetic smile that barely reaches his eyes.  
  
Ten clings to him gratefully, shaken by the pent-up tension. Whilst Taeyong’s anger is entirely misdirected, it’s not exactly unjust. He’s upset because he thinks _‘Ten’_ never told him about a secret relationship he was having with Taemin. Ten himself had never confided to anyone about his relationship with Johnny. He’d been too scared to tell anyone, for a number of reasons. The first was that the more people who knew, the bigger chance they had of being exposed. A gay scandal was the last thing any of them needed; whilst Ten was sure there would be a great many people out there who would be supportive of him, the repercussions on both their careers would be catastrophic.  
  
The second reason was that Ten couldn’t bear the thought of having the breakdown of his relationship constantly brought up. He’s sensitive enough as it is, and though he knows that any of the boys wishing to discuss his and Johnny’s affair would only come from a place of love, he is still bitter and hurt enough by its disintegration that he knows the constant talking about it would become draining on him.  
  
He doesn’t resent Johnny, could never resent him, but he mourns the intimacy they once shared, and the changed dynamics of a great friendship they’d had before because of it.  
  
Perhaps, he thinks, this is a good opportunity to talk to Taeyong about this; not as Ten but as Jongin. If he does this right, he can soothe over the reality that Taemin and Jongin are (fucking? In love love?) together, whilst simultaneously preparing Taeyong for the reality that when their bodies change back, if their bodies change back, that Ten also likes men. Has for a long time and will continue to do so most likely.  
  
Then he hears their name being announced and suddenly it’s on. He legs move like he’s on autopilot, trailing out after Taemin, waving smiling,_ you’re Jongin, you’re Jongin, you’re Jongin._  
  
They could have all been actors in a past life, because whenever Ten catches a sight of himself, of the group, in the screen monitors, no one would think they’d been squabbling just before they came out onstage. Taeyong in particular is smiling, laidback, and it’s only because of how long and well he knows him that Ten can catch the faint flicker of nerves and tension in the creases of his eyes.  
  
All in all, Ten thinks it goes well. He demonstrates ‘Jopping’ and remembers to keep his mouth shut, Mark diligently answers the questions given to them questions, and Jongin nails his answer about coming up with a fan name. He stumbles a little over the English, but in Ten’s voice, it just sounds like him being a bit scatter brained. He can hear the steady beat of Jongin’s foot tapping anxiously on the ground where he is sat behind him.  
  
Ten jumps when he feels a small hand, high on his leg. Fingers drum nervously against the meat of his thigh, and when Ten looks up in a panic, Taemin gives him a nervous smile and a thumbs up. On reflex, Ten puts a hand on Taemin’s knee. His hand looks huge in comparison, swallowing the dainty swell of Taemin’s kneecap and Taemin’s fingers brush against his hand for a second or two. Ten blinks when he feels Taemin’s pinkie finger wrap around his, but when he looks, Taemin’s hands are back in his own lap. The intimacy of such a tiny gesture has goose bumps breaking out across his skin under the bulk of his clothing, leaving his skin feel prickly and sensitive.  
  
To distract himself from the warmth of Taemin beside him and the nervous thump thump thump of Jongin’s foot behind him, he focuses on Mark. Ten never fails to be impressed with the professionalism that Mark carries about him at such a young age. He answers each question clearly, happy to field the pressure away from his hyungs. Ten is so busy admiring Mark that he almost misses the next question.  
  
_“Are any of you single?”_  
  
Instantly, Ten can feel the tension amongst the group ramp up. Besides him, Taemin stares hard at their host, head bobbing but not actually saying anything. He feels like he’s being watched, which is stupid because of course he is, but … he can’t shake the prickly feeling running down his spine. Mark, who honestly deserves a medal at this point, swoops in once again like an awkward superhero, flips the question on its head. It’s still so damn awkward though.  
  
It’s over in a matter of seconds, and then they’re handing over a check and cutting to commercial so that the boys can get touch ups for their performances. Backstage, Mark blows out a heavy breath. “Well done,” Baekhyun tells him, hooking a hand around the back of his neck and pressing their foreheads together. “I only understood about half of what you said but I’m sure you killed it.”  
  
“The audience seemed to like it,” Yukhei points out cheerfully.  
  
“You could say anything and the audience would like it,” Taeyong points out. He’s back to scowling again. Ten represses a sigh.  
  
“Where are Taemin hyung and Jongin hyung?” he asks Baekhyun, who looks over his shoulder at the emergency exit.  
  
“They slipped out,” he murmurs, and subtly mimes smoking a cigarette. Ten nods, lower lip caught between his teeth.  
  
He finds Taemin and Jongin tucked into a corner. Taemin’s arm is slung around Jongin’s smaller frame, cigarette in hand. He is sucking on it quickly, stressed little puffs that have his throat working hard against the onslaught of smoke. Jongin has his head resting on his shoulder, hands tucked behind his back.  
  
“Hey hyungs,” Ten greets quietly.  
  
Jongin raises a hand in a lazy arc of a welcome. Taemin holds out his hand, cigarette between his teeth, and he guides Ten over, letting him huddle up.  
  
“Well done,” Ten tells Jongin, “You nailed that.”  
  
Jongin shakes his head. “I stumbled too much, I forget what to say.”  
  
“You did great,” Taemin assures him quickly, “I only understood about half of it, but I’m sure it was good.”  
  
“It was,” Ten adds. “I promise you; I understood every word.”  
  
Jongin visibly sags in relief. He practically melts into Taemin’s side, and Ten looks up in time to see Taemin press a kiss to Jongin’s hairline. “Taeyong hates me,” Jongin says, mournfully and suddenly, and Ten flinches.  
  
“Don’t be dramatic,” Taemin insists. “He’s just a bit upset.”  
  
“You didn’t see him when we were getting out makeup done earlier,” Jongin replies. He sniffs. “He barely said a word to me.”  
  
“This is all my fault,” Ten sighs.  
  
“It’s not.” Taemin squeezes his arm. “You haven’t done anything.”  
  
“Exactly,” Ten says, “I haven’t done anything. He’s hurt because he thinks Ten didn’t tell him he was in a relationship, and he’s right; I didn’t do that.” When Taemin and Jongin frown at him, Ten swallows. “I haven’t told any of the guys about my sexuality. People just kind of assume… But I was, um, I was seeing someone,” he rushes to continue, suddenly hyper ware of what he’s saying and who he’s saying it to. “A man. And no one knew.”  
  
Taemin is looking at him sadly, and in a rare moment of compassion since their bodies had swapped, Jongin reaches out and squeezes his hand. “I’m sorry,” Taemin says. “It sucks, right?”  
  
Ten just looks at him, and he feels a profound sense of understanding wash over him, like he and Taemin are running on the same wave lengths. It’s different for Jongin, he realises, because Taemin has allowed him the freedom to see other people outside of their pre-existing relationship. Then he wonders if Taemin ever allowed himself that freedom. The media has always kept quiet about Taemin’s personal relationships, namely because there has never really been anything for them to report on. But not even the gossip train that is the groups of SM Entertainment have managed to pick up on Taemin seeing anyone, sleeping with anyone.  
  
For him, there is only Jongin.  
  
Ten’s got a weird itching feeling in his mouth, dry and achy. When Taemin blows smoke again, his fingers twitch. “You think I could…” he asks, gesturing to the cigarette and Taemin’s eyes momentarily widen before he hands over the almost finished cigarette.  
  
Ten has only smoked a few times in his life and has hated it every time. It makes his throat feel like it’s cracking, and he can always taste the phantom hum of cigarette smoke hours afterwards. Now though, he chalks it up to his mind conflicting with the physical properties of Jongin’s body. Though Ten doesn’t like it, Jongin’s craving a cigarette. On the other side of Taemin, Jongin is watching him longingly, and Ten decides that no matter how much he doesn’t like smoking, he’ll try and enjoy this one for the sake of Jongin’s body.  
  
He gets a little inhale in, and that’s all he manages before the door bursts open and their manager comes out. “There’s no time for this, come on,” he snaps, “You’ve got two minutes.”  
  
Regrettably, Ten crushes the cigarette under his boot as he’s herded back inside and immediately swarmed by the makeup team. A comb of the hair here, a touch of concealer there. Not a thing out of place.  
  
As they’re walking back towards the mini stage to get into position, Ten catches sight of Jongin grabbing Taemin’s hand and squeezing it tightly. Taemin stares at him and Jongin stares back, and there’s so much history and pain and love between them, that it makes Ten stumble. He bumps into Mark, who looks at him worriedly.  
  
“Are you ok, hyung?” he asks and Ten nods, but he doesn’t feel it. He hasn’t felt this nervous about a performance in years.  
  
As they get into position, Ten can hear the murmur of the audience. He feels sick.  
  
“Hyung,” Jongin says. “You look like you’re going to pass out.”  
  
Ten swallows. “I want to throw up,” he admits.  
  
“It’s going to be fine,” Taemin says, as they call for quiet backstage. This is it. Taemin lets out a shaky breath. “It’s going to be fine,” he repeats, as they hear Ellen begin to introduce them.  
  
The crowd screams.  
  
The lights go down.  
  
Ten breathes deeply and launches into the dance.  
  
It’s on.


	4. 4.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, it's been a while hasn't it?
> 
> I'd like to apologise for my absence. At the end of the last chapter I was hit by a heavy writers block which meant I was struggling to find a connecting chapter between what I had previously written and what I wanted to happen next. Then, when I did write my connecting chapter, I decided I hated it (the characterisation was weak, and Taeyong was coming across as way more of a villain which was NOT what I wanted or intended) so I deleted it and started it again. I thank you all for your patience and support of this story, and look forward to continuing to write it for people to read and (hopefully) enjoy.

It went… fine.   
  
Some would even say well, perhaps. Their late-night practicing seemed to have paid off because apparently, no one noticed anything out of place. It only took Ten a few seconds of being on a stage to slip into his head space; the one that oozed sex and confidence. He moved differently, he found, being in Jongin’s body. Whilst toned, Ten has never been big. He’s wiry, not stocky at all, and people often see him as very dainty in comparison to Jongin, who is all smooth defined muscles and golden skin. The dancing seems to come easier to him. He embodies all of Jongin’s gracefulness, how he dips and glides with the beat despite his more solid frame.   
  
He feels less like water, more like silk. Though it’s impossible to not feel good in Jongin’s body, in his _skin,_ Ten can’t get into this performance the way he does usually. He’s hyper aware of every move he makes, conscious of his other members and the distance between them. At one point, he catches sight of Jongin, and the subtle pinch of his brows, the gritting of his jaw tells Ten everything that he needs to know that Jongin is feeling the same as him.   
  
By the time they’re done, his legs feel like jelly and he’s walking on air, ears filled with cotton wall and sounds muffled all around him. They’re ushered backstage, and he stumbles along blindly like a lost child, unable to comprehend that they’d even managed to pull of this crazy feat with no casualties.   
  
Yukhei and Mark are buzzing with energy, and everyone looks at them with fondness but Ten would have to be blind to miss the relief in everyone’s faces. The tightness has gone from the corners of everyone’s eyes and the pinches of their mouths.   
  
Ten sinks down into a chair so that Noona can remove his makeup for him. “Are you ok, Jongin?” she asks him, and when he glances down, he realises his hands are trembling. He curls his fingers into a fist and folds them into his lap, foot tapping.   
  
They shower backstage at the studios, armed with sports bags and backpacks containing their comfy clothes. Ten is rummaging through his bag to find a spare set of clothes to change into, and he happens to look over to his left. Taemin and Jongin are together again, heads low, murmuring to each other. Taemin’s eyes flicker up and he sees Ten looking.   
  
Quickly, Ten strips his gaze away, face and neck flushing with heat at the thought of being caught. He grabs his face wash and makes for the shower, eyes trained onto the floor, when he collides with someone. He grunts in surprise, almost dropping his things. Taeyong looks back at him, and then he also glances up to see Taemin and Jongin watching them.   
  
His mouth twists in a grim unhappy line. “Sorry, hyung,” he mumbles to Ten, turning and leaving the room.   
  
“Shit,” Ten mutters as the door swings shut behind Taeyong. From somewhere within the depths of his bag, he hears his phone chime, but he ignores it for now, overwhelmed with tiredness and fatigue.   
  
They stumble back to the car, bodies sleepy but minds wide awake from the intensity of the performance. “I don’t know about anyone else, but I really need a drink,” Baekhyun announces as they climb into their respective seats.   
  
“Me too,” Mark chimes in, and Jongin swats him over the back of the head fondly.   
  
Ten’s phone buzzes again. He fiddles with the strap of his bag and fights against the heaviness in his eyelids as the car bundles along the road.   
  
Back at the house, someone from their team runs for food, and in the kitchen the boys crack open bottles of beer. Ten doesn’t join them. Instead, he retreats to the living room, craving a little bit of space.   
  
He digs his phone out of his back pocket, and his eyes widen momentarily. Sinking into a chair and cupping the glowing phone to his chest, he opens the text messages he’d received earlier.   
  
They are all from Johnny.   
  
**Hey, you had the Ellen show right?   
How did it go?**   
  
And then, a bit later:

**We should talk soon. **  
**Miss you x**   
  
Ten stares down at his phone. “Jongin hyung,” Mark says from somewhere beside him, “Jongin hyung? Hyung?”   
  
He reaches out and touches Ten’s shoulder, and Ten jumps. _“Shit.”_   
  
“I didn’t mean to scare you,” Mark says, smiling at him earnestly.   
  
“No, you didn’t,” Ten lies, pressing his phone close to his chest unconsciously, right over his heart. Mark’s eyes track the movement and then widen a little.   
  
“Um, is that…?”   
  
Ten glances down. “Ten’s phone?” He thinks quickly. “Um, yeah, he asked me to look after it for him after the show today. I’ll just, uh. I’ll just be getting it back to him.”   
  
He stumbles to his feet, when Mark suddenly touches his wrist. It makes Ten almost jump three feet into the air. “Are you ok, hyung?” Mark asks, hands quickly retreating back to his side.   
  
“I’m fine,” Ten says quickly, “Why, do I seem unwell?”   
  
Mark shrugs, shuffles his feet. He looks so young with a bare face, the complete opposite to the persona he conducts onstage. “I was just thinking about what we saying earlier at the show. With Ten hyung and Taeyong hyung not really talking to each other at the moment … it’s bringing everyone down. I guess I just wanted to make sure you were doing ok.”   
  
Ten swallows and is shocked to find a lump in his throat. He suddenly feels overcome with emotion, overwhelmed by the taxing mental stress inflicted by the past forty-eight hours.   
  
The text from Johnny brought him to the edge; Johnny had always been good at anchoring Ten at his most emotionally vulnerable, able to soothe over the cracks like a balm to a burn wound. He’d been an attentive friend when they were close, a giving lover eager to please his partner when they were sleeping together, and as a boyfriend he’d done his best to keep Ten happy.   
  
Even now, back to being just friends, it’s like he still knows when Ten is down, when he needs a bit of support.   
  
Ten doesn’t care that Mark thinks he’s comforting Jongin, because he knows that Mark is a peacekeeper; a lover, not a fighter, just like Yukhei. They love their hyungs in equal amounts, but all for different reasons, and Ten appreciates that this change of circumstances (no pun intended) is draining on everyone. At least Yukhei is in on the universe’s sick idea of a joke, but Mark is clueless. He’s only doing what he does best; keeping the peace.   
  
“I’m ok,” Ten says, and he’s proud of how his voice doesn’t wobble. “The last few days have been a bit crazy for all of us, huh?”   
  
“Tell me about it.” Mark grins at him toothily. He glances over his shoulder. “Oh, dinner is here. I was gonna tell you that we’re all eating out by the pool, gonna have some drinks.”   
  
The corners of Ten’s lips tremble, but he nods. Bed honestly sounds like the most appealing thing right now, but his stomach is rumbling persistently, and he knows he’ll regret it later if he doesn’t eat. He tells himself he’ll have one drink and that'll be the end of it.  
  
Mark waits with him whilst Ten fills a plate with food, a little supportive shadow. Sure enough, the other members are already out by the pool. It’s warm, thanks to the outdoor heaters. Ten sinks down into a chair, taking the opened beer that Baekhyun passes him. As he does so, Baekhyun raises an eyebrow at him, and Ten shakes his head to signify he doesn’t want to talk about it.   
  
Jongin is curled up on one of the lounge chairs with a blanket around him. Ten puts his phone, switched off, down beside him. “Here’s your phone, Ten,” he says, staring hard at Jongin. “If you need me to take care of it again for you, just let me know.”   
  
Jongin’s eyebrow twitches, and then he sees how Ten is side eyeing towards Mark. “Thank you, hyung,” he croaks.   
  
He picks at his food; for every bite that he takes, he drinks twice as much, and this combined with the fatigue of the day’s events have his head feeling lighter than usual.   
  
Suddenly Ten looks up. “Where’s Taeyong?” he asks, remembering in time to drop the honorific.   
  
“He went up to his room,” Jongin says quietly. “Says he doesn’t feel like hanging out.”   
  
Ten frowns and nods. He eats a little more, but the food doesn’t taste good in his mouth. He feels the weight of a gaze on him and a brush of movement, and Taemin is then sinking down beside him. To his credit, Ten barely flinches when Taemin squeezes his arm, eyes soft and sleepy in the low evening light.   
  
“You ok?” he asks him.   
  
“Not really,” Ten admits. He’s worried about Taeyong and knows that he can’t delay talking about it any longer with him; it’ll only create more issues. “Hyung, I’ve fucked up,” he says quietly.   
  
“With Taeyong?” Ten nods and Taemin rubs his arm in sympathy. They are sitting a little way from everyone else, and Yukhei is saying something that is making everyone laugh. Even Jongin’s lip are quirking, and Ten’s chest aches.   
  
“There’s nothing you could have done,” Taemin tells him quietly, “You weren’t ready for anyone to know.”   
  
“But what about you?” Ten looks up. He’s momentarily taken aback by how close Taemin is; he jolts back a little, a fight-or-flight reaction to create some distance between them. “You’ve been outed; I don’t want things to be difficult for you.”   
  
Taemin looks tense, but he nods his head. “I understand,” he says, “But you don’t have to worry about me. I’ve known Taeyong long enough to know that he isn’t a bad person. I believe that we need to make him understand. You know,” Here he lowers his voice, bowing his head closer in order to talk quietly into Ten’s ear. It makes goose bumps jump along Ten’s spine. “It was always my intention to tell you guys about us. I’ve had… a very, _very_ long time to come to terms with this. I’m not ashamed, Ten.”   
  
Ten swallows thickly. His palms feel sweaty. “And… what about me?” he asks quietly.   
  
“What about you?”   
  
“Hyung thinks that you’re dating me. That you’re dating Ten.”   
  
Taemin hums, even closer than before, if such a thing were even possible. Ten trembles despite himself, and when he looks up, he sees Jongin is watching them, eyes dark. “Perhaps,” Taemin murmurs, “That isn’t such a bad thing?”   
  
Ten practically falls off of his chair. Everyone turns to look at him, and Ten stumbles to his feet, face hot and cheeks burning red. “I’m going to check on Taeyong!” he announces loudly.   
  
“Take him up some food,” Baekhyun says. “He hasn’t eaten since this morning; he’ll be needing it.”   
  
Ten nods urgently, head wagging. He hurries into the house, clumsily grabbing a plate and loading it up with food.   
  
“Ten!” he hears his own voice say, and it’s… unsettling still, to say the least. He turns; Jongin is there behind him.   
  
“Hyung, hey,” Ten says, “I was just, um-”   
  
“Going to talk to Taeyong, I know.” Jongin stares at the counter. “Are you sure this is a good idea? Do you want me to talk to him?”   
  
Ten shakes his head. “It has to be me. If I’m right, then he isn’t mad that it’s two guys; he’s angry that Ten didn’t tell him.”   
  
“So maybe Ten should speak to him now.”   
  
“Ten _is_ speaking to him now. Hyung,” Ten says and Jongin sighs heavily. “I’ll fix this. Maybe, in a way, this is better. I can talk to Taeyong from an unbiased perspective, maybe give him some clarity that I’d be too afraid to share with him if I was myself? This might actually work out better.”   
  
“It just… feels like Taemin and I are passing the buck a little, y’know?” Jongin admits and Ten nods.   
  
“Let me talk to him. Right now, he doesn’t want to speak to _Ten,_ but maybe _Jongin_ can have an impact. He respects you, Jongin.”   
  
Jongin nods. “Good luck,” he says.   
  
Ten grins at him, but inside he feels sick. “Hey, Ten?” Jongin hands him his phone back. “Thank you for this. Really.”   
  
“I’ll do my best, hyung.”   
  
“We’re rooting for you. Both me and Taemin.” At the mention of Taemin’s name, Ten shivers. He hurriedly grabs the plate of food and makes his way up to the room Taeyong is staying in. He knocks on the door.   
  
It’s silent for a few seconds. Ten is about to knock again, when he hears Taeyong call, “Who is it?”   
  
“It’s Jongin.”   
  
There’s another beat of quiet. “…Come in,” he hears Taeyong call. Ten opens the door.   
  
Taeyong is sat on his bed, swapped in a large hoodie with the bedsheet pulled haphazardly over his lap. He looks tired and unhappy. “I brought you something to eat,” Ten says softly, “Baekhyun hyung said you hadn’t eaten since breakfast.”   
  
“I’m not that hungry, hyung,” Taeyong says quietly.   
  
Ten sets down the plate of food on the dresser. “You mind if I sit?” Taeyong shrugs, so Ten perches on the end of Mark’s bed, facing the other boy. “So, you and Ten…”   
  
“Hyung.” Taeyong bites his lip and stares at his hands. “If you’re here to lecture me-”   
  
“Not lecture you,” Ten corrects, “I just wanted to talk.” Taeyong’s fingers twitch repeatedly. “You guys are fighting, huh,” Ten says.   
  
Taeyong’s head jerks up. “It’s not because he’s gay,” he blurts out, and Ten’s heart pulses. He can feel his heartbeat in his ears, stomach and head heavy with nerves.   
  
“That’s good,” he says, and adds, “We’d have problems if it was.”   
  
“I’ve known Ten was gay since the day I met him,” Taeyong replies. “It’s kind of impossible for people to not know.”   
  
Ten bristles despite himself. Was he really that obvious? “I mean, I wouldn’t say that,” he says and Taeyong snorts.   
  
“Are we talking about the same Ten here?” he asks, “Have you heard his voice? Or seen how he dresses?”   
  
“What’s wrong with how I- _he_ dresses?” Ten demands. He shakes his head. “We’re getting off topic. If you don’t have a problem with him being gay-”   
  
“I don’t,” Taeyong repeats quickly.   
  
“-Then why aren’t you two talking. Is it… because of Taemin hyung?” Taeyong quirks an eyebrow and Ten curses himself. _Shit, fuck, stupid honorifics._ “Is it because of Taemin?” he repeats.   
  
Taeyong sighs. He shuffles around a bit, and then reaches for the plate of food Ten had brought for him. He nudges rice around with his chopsticks but doesn’t eat anything. “Ok, do you want me to be honest?” he asks and Ten nods. “That hurt me, hyung. It’s hurt me that he has started a relationship with another member of this group and didn’t think to tell me about it.”   
  
“Maybe he just needed time?” Ten supplies weakly, but Taeyong shakes his head.   
  
“No, hyung, you don’t understand. This isn’t the first time he’s done this.”   
  
Ten’s heart drops. “What do you mean?” he asks.   
  
“I can’t say who, because I don’t know if they’d be ok with it, but I’m positive that Ten was sleeping with someone else in NCT.”   
  
“Someone told you this?”   
  
“No one had to tell me, I saw it. I could see it in how they looked at each other that there was something going on.” He’s talking about Johnny. Ten knows he is. Had they really been so conspicuous? He’d always thought he and Johnny had hid their infatuation with each other well from the rest of the boys. Clearly _not_ well enough. Taeyong is still talking. “I didn’t say anything at the time, because I thought, as you said, that he needed time to come to terms with it. Then, I don’t know what happened; they broke up, I guess. And still, he didn’t say anything. I was just waiting for him to pull me to the side, to talk to me about how he was feeling, and he never did. And…” Taeyong pauses, rubs hard at his nose. “And now I find out that he’s dating Taemin hyung, and he _still_ didn’t say anything to me about it. You knew before I did. And that got me thinking, maybe he hasn’t said anything to me because he thinks he can’t.”   
  
Ten thinks about his next few words very carefully. “B…Because of things you’ve said in the past?” he asks and Taeyong cringes.   
  
“I’ve apologised so many times,” he insists. “I was so stupid and ignorant back then, but there’s nothing else I can do but say I’m sorry again. But I thought Ten knew me better than that. I guess I was wrong.”   
  
Ten swallows heavily. He moves to sit on the bed beside Taeyong, and then puts a hand on his shoulder. “I believe he didn’t say anything because he didn’t want to course any hassle,” Ten says quietly, and his heart feels heavy with emotion at finally being able to express how he felt. “Perhaps he was worried about what everyone else would say, not just you. Maybe he was scared that if he and J- the person he was seeing then, or Taemin now, broke up, that everyone else would be involved in it and would have an opinion. You can’t tell me that in a group as big as NCT that you haven’t seen _some_ alliances formed.”   
  
Taeyong nods. “Uh-huh.”   
  
“And I imagine that people take sides when there’s an argument, right?”   
  
“They do. I try to get them to not do it, but…”   
  
“But it’s difficult,” Ten agrees. He’s seen it happen, been involved in a few group disputes himself. He doesn’t envy Taeyong the role of trying to whip them all into shape. “Or maybe,” Ten continues, “Maybe he just, for a brief moment, wanted to have something for himself? A relationship that didn’t come with rules or regulations. Something that only he and his lover knew about? With no managers breathing down their necks, no group mates muzzling in. No leaders stressing about what might happen if they’re caught?” He looks wearily at Taeyong when he says this. The older boy’s cheeks have flushed red but he’s not denying it.   
  
“…Shit,” Taeyong mutters, “I’m a terrible friend.”   
  
“You’re not,” Ten says quickly. The truth is he loves Taeyong like a brother and knows in his heart of hearts that his reasons for not confiding in him where not based on stupid things Taeyong had said carelessly in the past. “If it’s any consolation,” and here he can’t help but think back to that first morning when he woke up when their bodies had swapped, to the feeling of Taemin’s arms wrapped around his waist and his hand wrapped around his dick. His face feels warm and he stammers a little “I-I, uh…I found out completely by mistake as well.”   
  
Taeyong doesn’t notice his trippy tongue. His shovelling rice around his plate with more intent now. “What should I do?” he asks, “Hyung?”   
  
“Talk to Ten,” Ten says gently, “Just… tell him you’re sorry. Tell him what you told me just now, and I’m sure he will understand.”   
  
Taeyong nods. Then his eyes widen. “What about Taemin hyung? He’s going to think I’m such an idiot.”   
  
“He won’t.”   
  
'How do you know that though?”   
  
“Taemin and I are… close,” Ten says. “You know him, he’s a good guy. A good hyung. If you explain yourself to him, I think he’ll get it.” Taeyong looks at him for the first time since he entered the room, and Ten offers him a smile. Taeyong’s brow quivers, and Ten doesn’t miss it. “What?” he asks.   
  
“Nothing,” Taeyong says, though it’s clearly something. “It’s just, for a second I thought you looked like…” He shakes his head. “It doesn’t matter, I’m just being stupid. I’ll go and speak to Ten.”   
  
Ten nods, and ruffles Taeyong’s hair as he gets up. He’s always wanted to do that. They head back outside together, where the other boys are still congregating. They fall silent as Ten and Taeyong approach. Taeyong takes an audibly deep breath as he stops in front of Jongin.   
  
“Ten, can I talk to you?”   
  
Jongin’s eyes flicker over to Ten who nods his head subtly. “Sure,” he says, getting to his feet, “Let’s talk inside.”   
  
Baekhyun watches them go and then turns to Ten. “Everything ok?” he asks.   
  
Ten nods. “Yeah, I think it’s going to be alright.”   
  
There’s a click beside him, and he looks over to see Taemin lighting a cigarette. Ten swallows, mouth dry. Taemin pats the spot next to him, and Ten sinks down beside him once again.   
  
“What did he say?” he asks, voice as warm and hazy as the smoke he exhales from his cigarette. Ten shudders, and reaches awkwardly for Jongin’s abandoned blanket, draping it around himself for something to do.   
  
“It’s as I suspected,” Ten explains and then lowers his voice to avoid Yukhei and Mark overhearing. “He was angrier that I hadn’t told him _Ten_ was seeing a man, as opposed to it being _because_ he was seeing a man.”   
  
Taemin hums, puffing thoughtfully on his cigarette. “And me and Jongin?”   
  
“He doesn’t know about your, uh, relationship. He thinks you’re dating me, as in Ten, as in, um-” Taemin’s free hand has settled on his hip, out of sight of the others. “I’ve told him to speak to you separately and explain himself. Um, hyung, what are you-”   
  
“Hyungs?” they hear Lucas shouting, and Taemin’s hand retracts as though it was never there to begin with. “Does anyone want anything else to eat?”   
  
“Go ahead, Yukhei,” Baekhyun calls back.   
  
“Shall I get my guitar?” Mark asks innocently. “That might be fun.”   
  
Ten gets this image in his head of the seven of them seated around a campfire, toasting marshmallows as Mark sings country songs and he can’t help but snort. Mark beams at him, and Ten shrugs. “It’s fine with me,” he shrugs.   
  
Mark fetches his guitar and Yukhei returns with his third helping of dinner for that evening. Baekhyun has been steadily working his way through drinks and his face is flushed, eyes a little glassy.   
  
Ten watches Mark strum and pick the strings of his guitar with a fond smile on his face. They stay out there for an hour or so longer, singing, talking, laughing. A few times, Ten gets concerned that Jongin and Taeyong have not returned but every time he starts to look to see where they are, he feels Taemin’s hand return to his hip, squeezing, soothing. After a while, he gets used to it and doesn’t jump every time he feels it. He begins to enjoy it if anything. After a while, Taemin winds his way closer, smelling faintly of smoke and shampoo and expensive body wash. Up close, Ten can also smell hints of the alcohol he must have consumed with his dinner, something fruity and sweet. Taemin rests his head against Ten’s shoulder. “Is this ok?” he murmurs, “Jongin and I do this sometimes.”   
  
Ten tries to speak and has to take a moment to find his voice. “Yeah,” he croaks, clearing his throat, “It’s fine.”   
  
Taemin beams and settles down against his side. After a while he hears the door slide open and then close, and when he looks up, he sees Jongin approaching them. Instantly, he can see that a weight has been lifted from Jongin’s shoulders, like he’s not being pulled down. Ten panics when he realises that Jongin is going to see Taemin cuddled up to him, but the other man ignores it.   
  
“Taemin hyung,” he says quietly. Ten feels Taemin stir against his shoulder. “Taeyong was wondering if he could speak to you quickly.”   
  
Taemin squeezes Ten’s waist and rises to his feet, reaching for Jongin’s hand and holding it. “Of course. Is everything ok?”   
  
Jongin glances at Ten. “Everything is fine,” he says, and smiles. For the first time in a few days, it seems genuine.   
  
Taemin disappears inside, and Yukhei watches him go. “If hyung is going inside, I think I might as well,” he says, and this is punctuated by yawn. Baekhyun stirs from where he’d been away with the fairies in his chair. Ten wonders for a moment if he’d been sleeping with his eyes open.   
  
“Sleep sounds like a good idea,” he says, “Come on, Mark, it’s past your bedtime.” He ignores when Mark starts to protest and turns to Ten and Jongin. “You coming?”   
  
Ten glances at Jongin, who shrugs. “I’ll stay out here for a bit,” Jongin says, “You wanna join me, hyung?”   
  
Ten just nods.   
  
“How come Ten hyung and Jongin hyung get to stay up?” Mark demands.   
  
“Because they’re not proving how tired they are with a temper tantrum, let’s go,” Baekhyun says, guiding Mark back into the house. He turns and gives them a wave before shutting the door.   
  
Now alone, Ten’s stomach fills with nervous butterflies all over again. He hasn’t had much of an opportunity to be alone with Jongin since this whole body swapping came to being, and combined with the fact that being around his crush makes him anxious anyway, he’s suddenly wishing he’d taken up Baekhyun’s offer of going straight to sleep.   
  
“You talked to Taeyong hyung then,” he says instead. Jongin grunts as he sits down opposite Ten.   
  
“Yep. I’m learning some interesting things about you,” he says. Ten splutters out nervous laughter.   
  
“Nothing bad I hope?” he asks.   
  
“Oh, the worst.” Jongin smiles at him to show he’s joking. “Taeyong said he knows about your relationship you had before. It was Johnny, right?”   
  
“How did you-” Ten begins and then shuts up.   
  
“I saw he’d texted you on your phone. I’ve watched videos, you know, of you guys. Kinda put two-and-two together from it. You remind me of me and Taemin.”   
  
“Clearly not,” Ten says, tone unintentionally bitter. “At least you and hyung are still together.” He puts his hand over his mouth. “Sorry, I didn’t- I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”   
  
“It’s ok,” Jongin assures him. “Bad breakup?”   
  
Ten runs his hand through his hair._ Here goes nothing_. “No,” he says. “No, it was actually pretty civil.”   
  
Jongin squints at him. “And that’s… bad?”   
  
“I just feel like it maybe wouldn’t suck as much now if it had been a huge fight.”   
  
“Why did you break up?” Jongin asks. “Because he’s straight,” Ten says. “I get it. We all started training so young, surrounded by boys at an early age, unable to openly date anyone, let alone girls. He was bound to start getting confusing thoughts at some point. And we were friends, good friends, and he’s hot so I thought… why not?” He laughs bitterly. “I can’t even be mad at him for it. If he hadn’t have broken it off, he’d be unhappy, and I’d be asking him to live a lie. And we never saw one another, we were always busy. So, we sat down and talked about it, and decided that maybe things were better when we were friends. It was awkward for a while, but we’re ok now.”   
  
“But it still sucks.”   
  
“It still sucks.”   
  
Jongin nods. “Did you love him?”   
  
Ten’s thought about this so often, it isn’t funny. He lies in bed at night and thinks about this. He thinks about it in the shower, at the airport, backstage. “I think so,” he muses, “In my own way.” Jongin nods. Ten glances up. He can just make out the stars, straining through the light pollution to populate the sky with tiny crystal-like dots.   
  
“Thank you,” Jongin says, “For speaking to Taeyong. I didn’t like fighting with him. It sounds like you talking to him helped him understand a little bit, and that it gave you an opportunity to get some things of your chest.”   
  
“It was good to talk to it as someone else,” Ten admits, “It made me feel… braver, I suppose. Like he wouldn’t judge me because I was _you.”_   
  
Jongin looks thoughtful. “Do you… think this is what the body swapping is about?” he asks, “That it’s to help us come out to the others?”   
  
Ten hadn’t considered this. “Like the universe is trying to help us in its own sick way. Maybe,” he says. “Do you think we’ll wake up tomorrow back in our own bodies?”   
  
“I don’t know,” Jongin says, “I hope so, I miss Taemin.” He laughs suddenly. “Ah, I’m so pathetic. All of the issues that would be resolved if this was fixed, and all I can think about is him.”   
  
“What do you miss?” Ten asks.   
  
“Touching him, kissing him. Being close to him. I'm sorry, that's too much,” Jongin says but he’s smiling in a way that Ten has only ever seen him do for Taemin; soft, tiny curl in the corners of his mouth.   
  
“Do you love him?” Ten asks boldly, and Jongin looks up at him.   
  
“Yes,” he says, then adds, “In my own way.”   
  
Speak of the devil; the lounge door slides open and Taemin steps out. He pauses when he sees them both. “I’m glad you two are here,” he says, “Where’re the others?”   
  
“Bed,” Jongin says, “Where’s Taeyong?”   
  
“The same, bed,” Taemin replies as he glides over. He reaches for Jongin, who takes his hand and pulls him down onto the lounger beside him. Ten looks between them.   
  
“How did it go with Taeyong?”   
  
“Well, he feels horrible about how he reacted, but he’s sorry,” Taemin says, glancing out at the view provided. He looks at Jongin and smooths some hair back from his forehead. “I think we’re ok.” Ten glances between the two of them and then gets to his feet. “Where are you going?” Taemin asks.   
  
“To bed,” Ten says, “I thought you’d want to be alone?”   
  
“Stay a bit,” Taemin coos, holding out a hand for him. “You don’t have to go.” He looks over at the pool. “Besides, I kind of fancy a swim.”   
  
“A swim?” Ten repeats.   
  
“Yes, we should go for a swim, the three of us. We never go in the pool; it might be fun.”   
  
“It’s late,” Ten points out, checking the time on his phone. “It’s gone midnight, hyung.”   
  
“That doesn’t matter,” Taemin insists. “Come on, it might be fun.”   
  
Ten looks at his phone again. The notification telling him Johnny had texted him sits glaring and bold on the screen. He swallows and then locks his phone. “Fuck it,” he says, “Why not?”   
  
Taemin beams and turns to Jongin. “You in, baby?” he asks.   
  
“I’m hardly going to let you have all the fun without me,” Jongin replies. Taemin tugs on his hair, a wicked grin on his face that Ten hasn’t seen before. The eldest rises and begins to peel of his shirt. Instantly, Ten’s cheeks flush.   
  
“What are you doing, hyung?” he asks, and Jongin stands up and also begins to get undressed.   
  
Taemin pauses in shucking down his sweatpants. “Getting ready to swim, what does it look like?”   
  
“Aren’t you going to get your trunks?” Ten asks, jerking his thumb over his shoulder towards the house.   
  
Taemin slinks towards him, clad only in his briefs and Ten gulps, makes a conscious effort to keep his eyes on the elder’s face. “Have you ever been skinny-dipping, Ten?” he asks.   
  
Ten gulps, harder. “No,” he breathes.   
  
“No? Would you like to?”   
  
Ten peeps around Taemin’s body to see his own body. Jongin waits, shirtless, but it’s clear that he isn’t going to undress further without Ten’s permission. “I-I don’t look like you guys,” Ten says, voice no higher than a whisper. “I’m not as strong, I’m not-”   
  
“It’s ok,” Jongin says, stepping forwards. He kneels in front of Ten and touches his knee. “We don’t have too,” he says quietly.   
  
Ten flushes. His stomach is tingling again but it isn’t with nerves anymore. He blinks thrice, tries to calm down. “Can we keep our underwear on?” he asks and Jongin smiles genuinely, nods and squeezes his knee.   
  
“Sure,” he says.   
  
Taemin is already in the water, ducking his head beneath and then resurfacing, shaking his wet hair away from his face. He smiles at Ten. “The water’s really warm,” he says, “It’s nice.”   
  
Jongin gives Ten’s knee a final squeeze and then removes his own shorts, stepping away to slink into the pool and allow Ten some privacy to get undressed. Ten watches his own body glide into the water; he likes swimming personally and has always prided himself on being as graceful in the water as he is when dancing.   
  
Slowly, he peels off his shirt and shucks out of his bottoms, leaving himself in his briefs. If he looks down, he can make out the shape of Jongin through the underwear, and he swallows for the hundredth time that evening.   
  
Taemin is now watching him. Ten is probably imagining it, but Taemin has a hungry look about him, eyes dark and cheeks flushing. He slowly sleeps into the water; Taemin was right, it is warm, and he instantly ducks down under the surface to swim. He does a few laps, listening to Taemin and Jongin talk and occasionally answering them back when he decides he is going to sink to the bottom of the deep end of the pool.   
  
He stays there for as long as he can, till his lungs ache and his ears feel like they need to pop. The chlorine stings his eyes till it’s all he can think about, and then he remerges, gasping for air but happy.   
  
“We thought you weren’t going to come back up,” Taemin calls from where he’s lounging by the wall of the pool. Droplets cling to his skin, shine in his eyelashes and the high slope of his cheek bones. “Come closer, Ten,” he says.   
  
Ten wades over and Taemin reaches out, touches his shoulder. “Hyung,” Ten breathes.   
  
“How do you like Jongin’s body?” Taemin asks. “Stand up for me a moment?”   
  
Ten does so. The water from the pool laps around his hip bones as Taemin gazes over him. Ten remains quiet; he is aware that Taemin is likely to feel the same as Jongin. He’ll miss being intimate with him, and so Ten doesn’t want to deny him the pleasure of looking at his lovers’ body, even if he can’t touch.   
  
“They’re nice,” Taemin comments, gesturing to the rock hard of Jongin’s abs.   
  
“Hyung is handsome,” Ten admits breathlessly and Taemin smirks with pride.   
  
“Jongin,” he calls. Jongin swims over to them, and Ten can’t help but flush at how his own willowy body looks in comparison to his hyungs’. “Stand next to Ten,” Taemin insists. He looks at both of them approvingly, sitting on the edge of the pool. “You’re both so different,” he says, “And yet I love to look at you both.”   
  
“Don’t tease,” Ten mumbles and Taemin’s eyes widen.   
  
“I do,” he insists, “You, Ten, remind me so much of me. Our bodies are similar, it’s what makes us so graceful when we dance. Not like this muscle pig.”   
  
“Hey,” Jongin insists without any bite, but his eyes, Ten’s eyes, are dark, pupils big and flushed. Ten is glad that the water comes up to his waist. There is a charged energy surrounding them, one that screams of sex and longing; it’s one that Ten feels like he should not be witness too, but he cannot bare to look away from.   
  
“You think Jongin is handsome, Ten?” Taemin asks and Jongin’s eyes cut to his, widen. Ten’s sure his cheeks are crimson by now, but he nods. “He’s so handsome,” Taemin agrees, and then reclines back, giving both men a view of miles of milky unmarked skin. “And what about hyung? Do you think I’m handsome too?”   
  
Ten can’t help himself. He licks his lips unconsciously, and Taemin’s pupils dilate further. “Hyung is… pretty,” Ten mumbles, and Jongin echoes the sentiment. Suddenly, Jongin grabs Taemin’s ankle and holds it, thumb rubbing over the dainty jut of Taemin’s ankle bone. Taemin’s eyes flutter, and Ten feels saliva wet his tongue.   
  
_“Shit,”_ Taemin breathes, “God, I miss you.”   
  
“Taemin,” Jongin says, but it sounds more like a whimper and Christ, Ten is getting turned on, he can feel it-   
  
“Um, I should go!” he yelps, heaving himself out of the pool.   
  
“Fuck,” he hears Taemin mutter, “Ten, wait, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable-”   
  
“No, no!” Ten snatches up his clothes and not so discreetly places them over his crotch where he knows his erection is tenting in his wet underwear. “I’m just, really super tired, I’ll go to bed now. This was, um, I shouldn’t have done this.” He starts backing away hastily, when every fibre of his being screams for him to go back to the pool and watch them together, and _you two should kiss, fuck, you should fuck, let me see it, please-_ “Good night! Have fun!” he squeaks and legs it inside.   
  
The patio doors band shut behind him as he leaves a wet trail through the house. He sprints up to the bathroom, heart hammering with arousal and the odd fear he might slip on a wet tile and break his leg.   
  
He slams the door shut to the communal bathroom, safely away from everybody’s rooms and hurls his clothes into a corner and stares down at himself. He whimpers at the sight of his dick, _Jongin’s dick,_ straining and hard through the semi-transparent material of his wet underwear.   
  
The dampness of the fabric highlights every ridge and vein, the thickness of Jongin’s penis and the fat of his head, and Ten groans softly, his treacherous mind already committing the sight to his wank bank to use later on when (if) things returned to normal. He’s aching, and he can’t resist reaching down and squeezing himself over the material, feeling the girth and weight of it.   
  
“Fuck,” he moans, wrenching his hand away and slapping his palms against the wall. He’s so turned on, and there is nothing he can do about it. He feels the sink with cold water and washes his face with it, and when that does little to dispel his arousal, he steps into the shower and lets the cold-water spray over his body till he is semi and then soft.   
  
His balls throb at the halting of a climax, but he can’t, _can’t_ touch himself, no matter how badly he wants to.   
  
He has no idea how long he stays in the shower, but the house is silent when he finally exits the bathroom, tired and unsatisfied.   
  
There is no sound coming from Taemin’s room, or the one Ten shared with Yukhei. Ten even checks the pool again, but Taemin and Jongin aren’t there.   
  
In his room, Baekhyun is snoring away softly, and Ten climbs into bed, terrified of rubbing against any sheets or pillows for fear of stimulation. He hopes that the universe will sort this out soon, if not for the sake of his relationships with his group mates, then at least for the sake of his balls.   
  
There’s only so much a man can take before he snaps.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because I refused to let the last word of this chapter be 'balls'.


	5. 5.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey... Heyyy... How y’all doing...
> 
> So... it’s been a while. About 9 months, I think... wow.
> 
> I’d like to apologise for my absence. With the state of the world right now and the aim of completing a degree, writing kind of took a backseat for me (10,000 word assignments will do that). But I aware that I’ve left a lot of people waiting with this story, and I’d like to thank everyone who has read it and supported it up until this point, I am eternally grateful for your support for this fic. Hopefully I can compensate my absence and make it up to you with smut. As always, thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoy (once again I am very sorry)

The next day, Ten is in a foul mood.  
  
It had taken him a long while to fall asleep last night; body thrumming, nerves tight, blood burning with built up arousal and sexual frustration. It had taken a long time for his body to calm down, and when it had he’d been almost overcome with a different kind of tension. Taemin’s obvious desire for Jongin was infectious, and Ten was being dragged into the complicated tangle of their relationship like an unwilling participant at some crappy magic show.

Before, he’d have longed to know what it would be like to know either of them romantically. Like a dirty sinful little secret that would keep him up late into the night, he would wonder how they’d touch respective partners, kiss, taste. He didn’t dare dove into the possibility that they’d do this with each other back then, but it’s fast becoming all he can think about.

_Don’t_, he tells himself sternly as he sits on the bed with his sketch pad and tries to ease out his frustrations. He presses his pen down hard onto the crisp creamy paper and watches how the ink blooms black, how it ripples out and stains the page in the shape of nothing.

He presses down so hard, ink starts to seep onto the following page, and when he realises he grunts in annoyance and scribbles some more.  
  
It had been late in the day when he’d awoken, with Baekhyun already gone.

They have a day off today, and ordinarily Ten would enjoy rest days without management waking him up and ushering him out of the door and into a makeup chair.

On an ordinary day, Ten would take a long, hot bath. He’d sit in the sun with his sketch pad and he’d mess around with Mark, play games with Yukhei, laugh at Baekhyun, chat about pointless shit with Taeyong. On an ordinary day, Ten would watch Taemin and Jongin; would long to get closer to them, would admire their similarities and their differences and think about what it would be like to hug them, hold them, kiss them.

This is not an ordinary day.

On an ordinary day, Ten would not know what Taemin looks like when he’s soaking wet and wearing only his underwear. He would not know about how water droplets cling to his long dark eyelashes, how it crinkles his hair and dries out his pretty plush mouth. He would not know that Taemin’s as lithe and graceful as a flower petal beneath his clothes, that his skin is even and unmarked all over his body, that his pupils get big and his cheeks get flushed when he’s turned on.

On an ordinary day, Ten would not know the in depth contours of Jongin’s body, how he smells, what his hair feels like beneath his fingers. He would not know that Jongin is big; big and thick and oh so heavy, weighty in his palm. He would not have the feel of Jongin’s dick saved in his memory to jack off to until he’s red raw and chafing. He would not know that when Jongin doesn’t come, his balls feel swollen and heavy and aching, in need of draining.

He misses ordinary days.

He can hear screaming outside. Going to the balcony, he peers out. Yukhei and Mark are in the pool again; Yukhei has Baekhyun on his shoulders and the leader is laughing, splashing at Mark who shrieks again and tries to wade away for cover. He doggy paddles past Taeyong who is sitting on th edge of the pool with his legs dangling. Taeyong laughs, offers one long leg for Mark to grab onto, and lets the younger man pull him into the pool to play.

They look so happy and carefree down there. Usually, Ten would go and join them, but he doesn’t want to disturb their peace. Everyone has been wound up tight these last few days and they deserve some time to feel like they aren’t stepping on eggshells regarding him and Jongin.

Squinting against the sun, Ten looks over. Jongin is not present, but he can see Taemin, spread out on a sun lounger lying on his front. Ten can see the sheen of sun cream spread across his back.

Taemin’s shoulders look delicate; his body looks like it could be made from glass, must be handled with care. _I’d handle him with care_, Ten thinks and then pinches himself, _hard_. Jesus, is he really so wound up that shoulders are enough to get him going?  
  
Then Ten thinks about how Taemin looked last night, how Taemin looked at _him_ last night. And it wasn’t just him in Jongin’s body, it was the way Taemin had looked at Jongin in Ten’s body. Like he wanted to sinfully eat him up, eat them _both_, like he wanted to use them for his pleasure and unlock every little sinful thought he’d ever had.

Ten’s belly feels warm and his thighs tense. Apparently shoulders _were_ enough to get him going.

Whoever would have known?

Retreating back to the bed, Ten bundles himself up in his covers. He kicks his sketchpad to the foot of the mattress; he feels uninspired, uncreative, trapped in a funk of being fed up and sexually frustrated all at once. If only he could just get off.

Ten hadn’t realised how much of a sexual being he was until he started to deny himself. Since the body swap and implementing the _No Touching_ rule, he feels like a caged tiger, pacing back and forth and going stir crazy. He just wants to run wild and free, though in this case, running wild and free is a metaphor for jerking himself off within an inch of his life.

Not a great analogy, but he said he wasn’t feeling inspired.

Instead, Ten scrubs blunt fingernails over the dips of Jongin’s inner thighs. It’s so close, yet so _far_, and it’s not like he’d got a hand on his _dick_. Besides, from the way Taemin and Jongin behaved last night, practically eye fucking one another…

Ten feels like this is ok. He breathes in and exhales through his nose as his thighs twitch and his stomach jumps under the feeling of his fingertips. One hand scratching lightly over his thighs, the other feels up under his shirt. His finger strays close to his nipple but he avoids it; even as his brain starts to zone out from how good it feels to tease himself he knows it’s a step too far.

Instead, his wondering fingers skim down, down, to the cut of Jongin’s abs. He feels them out, traces the lines of thick contours and hard firm muscle. It’s so different from his own body. Ten is all skin and bones, washboard abs and graceful lines. Before the change, he’d imagined what Jongin’s body would feel like so many times, but nothing could have matched up to the real thing.

Johnny’s body was like this.

Johnny was broad and big and chiselled. He would blanket Ten and make him feel safe, smothered, covered, loved- Ten wrenches his hands away, gasping softly.

He’s overwhelmed with a wave of sadness as he sits up, staring at his lap in shame. There’s a knocking at the door.

“Come in,” he calls softly, as Taeyong pokes his head around the door. He’s got a towel draped around his shoulders, his hair wet and dripping down his face. He’s no doubt left a watery trail behind him on his way here from the pool. “Hey,” Ten says.

“You ok, hyung?” Taeyong asks, wiping at his hair with the towel. “No one has seen you all day.”

Ten nods. “Yeah, just tired,” he lies and Taeyong nods.

“We’re hanging out by the pool,” he says, “Baekhyun hyung and Yukhei and Mark and me.”

Ten swallows. He tries not to sound too eager when he asks, “No Taemin or Ten?”

“Hyung went inside a while ago, and I haven’t seen Ten all day. I think he’s feeling a bit under the weather, maybe, or…” Taeyong trails off, clearly still nervous regarding the conversations they shared the day before.

“I’m sure he’s ok, Taeyong,” Ten says gently.

Taeyong nods, eyes weary. He catches sight of the sketchpad on the end of the bed, and he gasps. “Wow, hyung, did you draw that?” He points at the paper, covered in doodles and random sketches.

Ten curses for not hiding it. “Um…it’s just something random I was working on,” he says, edging towards the notepad to move it out of sight.

“Have you been spending time with Ten?” Taeyong asks, “They look like-”

“No,” Ten says and Taeyong shuts his mouth abruptly. Ten immediately feels bad. “No, they’re just drawings,” he says quietly. “I’m sorry, Taeyong-ah, I don’t mean to snap. Hyung’s just tired, y’know?”

“It’s ok, hyung, I get it.” Taeyong smiles at him, and Ten is relieved to see that he doesn’t look upset. “Come and join us if you want to. Whenever you feel like it.”

Ten nods, grateful for the offer. Taeyong leaves, and Ten curls up into his bed again, heart hammering. He’s irrationally concerned about the lack of Taemin and Jongin’s presence outside now. What if Taemin comes looking for him again? What if he looks at him with those hungry eyes and Ten finds himself a slave to his will? He’s only got so much restraint, after all.

He reaches for his phone to check the time. It’s late in the afternoon, and he’s about to lock his phone again when he swipes up and sees the text messages from Johnny. His heartbeat thuds uncomfortably loud against his breastbone and he swallows. Mentally, he tries to calculate what the time is in Seoul. He realises it would be morning there, and so he replies to Johnny with shaking fingers, bottom lip caught between his teeth.

When the phone starts ringing, his heart shoots up to his throat and he feels like he’s going to vomit. Panicking, his mind runs at a mile a minute. He can’t ignore the call; he’d just replied to Johnny’s text message. Did Johnny know Jongin’s voice well enough to spot something was wrong? _Fuck, fuck, fuckkkkk…_

With trembling fingers, he tapped the call button. “…Johnny?”

“_Ten?_”

“H-” His voice catches, breath caught in his throat. “Hey,” he tries again.

“_Hey_,” Johnny says back. It’s awkward. God, it’s _so_ awkward. It’s awkward as _fuck_, and Ten wishes it wasn’t but it is-“_Hey, how are you? It’s been a while, huh?”_

Ten’s tongue feels too big for his mouth. He doesn’t know what to say._ I miss you. I’m sorry. I’m stuck in the body of my hyung that I’m crushing on and I don’t know how to get out and I think that he wants to have sex with me along with my other hyung who I also have a crush on but I’m not stuck in his body just the other one’s…_ “It has,” he manages when the silence stretches on for far too long.

“_How’s everything?”_ Johnny asks, _“How was Ellen? How’s America?”_

He asks questions, and the only response Ten can find to everything is “…Good.”

_“Are you ok?_” Johnny asks. His voice is so warm and familiar, even if he’s oceans away, and although they’re not together anymore, haven’t been for a while, Ten finds himself longing to get lost in that deep voice. He used to lie on his belly and let Johnny rake stupidly long fingers through his hair, let him chat shit about everything and nothing as he drifted into slumber, lulled by that honey sweet voice.

This was a mistake. Ten shouldn’t have done this, he should have stuck to texting, he should have left his phone and joined the others by the pool. He could be living his best life right now, but instead he’s here, swaddled in a rumpled blanket and stuck in the body of his hyung.

He’s brought back out of his self-pitying slump when Johnny adds, _“You sound different. Are you sick?”  
_

Jongin’s voice is so much deeper than his own. Ten is a fucking idiot. He clears his throat and summons all the mucus he can to create a realistic sniff. “Yeah,” he croaks, lies, tugs nervously at a loose piece of thread on his pillowcase, “Yeah, ‘m a bit sick.”

Johnny makes an unhappy noise. It’s the same sound he makes when he thinks an injustice has been committed against his person. Ten can picture his face right now; eyebrows drawn in a harsh arc; pretty cupids bow tucked over an exaggerated pout. God, he’d been so whipped for this man. _“Are they taking care of you? Is Taeyong?”_

“He’s on vacation,” Ten says. He doesn’t want Johnny to worry about him; him fussing will do nothing for Ten’s situation at present after all. “He needs the break; I want to let him enjoy not being a leader without worrying about me.”

Johnny hums, doesn’t push it. There’s no point. “_Are you getting plenty of sleep?_”

“Who are you, my mother?” Ten asks. He’s desperate to redirect the conversation, does not like this caring line of questioning. Johnny’s a class clown; he pokes the bear; he’s sexy and he knows it. He’s been known to toe the line and push jokes to the point where they almost become jabs a few times; usually Mark is the recipient of his actions, but Mark is the little brother everyone always wanted so the kid takes it with good grace. Ten doesn’t like being the subject of this softer side of Johnny; it reminds him too much of when they were together, and he’s still not quite ready to think about it yet.

Instead, he asks for updates on 127, on the kids, asks Johnny about his day.

Johnny pushes right back, answers questions with questions, wants to know about the States, the shows, the sleeping situations, and Ten is reminded again why they could never work out. They’re head strong, the pair of them, bold characters who always want the last word.

_“What’s it like working with the hyungs?”_

Ten laughs, but it has none of its usual warmth.“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

_“It’s cool, right?”_ Johnny asks, that stuttered, breathless enthusiasm that he’s so good at summoning. “_Working with Shinee and Exo. What’s Baekhyun like? What are Taemin and Kai like?”_

Dark eyes and a plush wet mouth. Chlorine raindrops on washboard abs and soaking clothes that turn translucent when wet, showing every dirty little secret, every sinful thought. Ten coughs. “I’m really…getting to know them. They’re different, from how I’d thought they’d be.”

_“In a good way?” _

In a,_ they’re fucking_, way. “Yeah, in a good way.” He clears his throat again and ignores the throbbing between his legs. 

Johnny asks, _“Are you sure you’re ok? Your voice sounds pretty fucked up.”_

Ten looks down at his hand. Jongin’s hand. He closes his eyes. “I’m ok,” he promises, and then he smiles, “I’m running up your phone bill.”

“_It’s fine_,” Johnny answers, far too quickly, and Ten’s chest aches. _“I miss you, I- I miss talking to you.”_ It hurts.

“Johnny-”

“_It’s weird when you’re not here, it’s- weird._” He’s not talking about the distance anymore. Ten’s eyes prickle.

“I know,” he says, and the rawness in his voice is real this time. He hears a clattering from Johnny’s side of the call, and outside Mark yells something.

Johnny makes a distressed sound. _“I should go,”_ he says, and Ten, stupidly, nods. Like he can see you idiot_. “We should talk more.”_

“I miss you.”

It’s true. Johnny hums, soft and sweet. Safe. _“Hey, I’m proud of you. You know that, right?”_

“I-” Ten swallows, thick and stubborn. “Yeah, I know.”

_“Good. You’re a good guy, Ten,”_ Johnny says, _“A real good guy. A good guy who’s going to call me next time?”_

Ten can’t stop the smile that tugs at the corner of his mouth. “Yeah,” he says. 

_“And hey, tell Taeyong and Mark to answer their phones. We’ve been trying to call them.”_

Ten glances at the balcony windows. “They’re out by the pool.” Johnny snorts.

_“A pool, huh. Nice.” _

“Jealous?”

There’s a familiar teasing tone when Johnny says, “_Of you, Ten? Never. We’ll talk again soon.”_

“Bye,” Ten says into the phone, so quiet it could basically be a whisper. He curls up in his bed, long after Johnny is gone, and waits until his breaths feel like they’re no longer trembling.

Eventually he gets up. Washes his face, brushes his teeth. He doesn’t know Jongin’s skin care routine, hopes that moisturiser and sunscreen will be enough for a lazy day, and makes his way out to the pool.

He doesn’t know what he needs or wants as he eases open the glass door and steps out, shielding his eyes against the sun. Baekhyun has migrated to the sun lounger with a book in hand. He’s wearing sunglasses; he twists his upper body in his chair to tilt them down to the tip of his nose to give Ten an unimpressed look. “What time do you call this?”

Tens huffs but doesn’t answer and it’s all the ammunition Baekhyun needs to keep prodding. “You came in very late last night,” he says slyly, “Burning the candle at both ends with the others, were we?”

Ten ignores him and turns to his fellow NCT members. “Johnny called; he says to answer your phones. Says that they’ve been trying to call you.”

Mark immediately starts and begins to try and haul himself out of the pool, but Taeyong pauses from where he’s smoothing the wet hair back from his scalp. “You spoke to Johnny?” he asks.

Shit. “Ten asked me to tell you.”

“You’ve seen him?” Taeyong asks and Ten internally flaps.

“Passed him on the way to the bathroom.”

“Right.” Taeyong climbs out of the pool, far more graceful than Mark ever could. “I hope no one has broken anything.”

He wraps his towel around himself and lets Mark cuddle up against his side as he dials a number. Yukhei paddles over and rests his arms on the side of the pool, chin tucked up against them. “Are you staying out for a bit, hyung?” he asks.

Ten looks down at himself, still dressed in his sweatpants. He feels lazy and gross, not much in the mood. Baekhyun, fortunately, seems to notice that he’s not feeling it, so he says, “We’ll save you some dinner later?”

Ten breathes a sigh of relief. “Thanks, hyung.”

“Oh, hey,” Baekhyun says, just as Ten turns around to head back inside. “Taemin left his phone out here, would you mind giving it to him.”

_Hungry, hungry eyes._ “Sure,” Ten says, reaching for it as Baekhyun hands the phone to him. Baekhyun gives him a knowing look, and it makes Ten’s skin prickle. “Thanks.”

He plays with Taemin’s phone as he makes his way back into the house, nervous and seeking something to do. He had not got as far as thinking about how he is now going to interact with Jongin and Taemin following on from last night; he can’t seem to get past the sight of each of them in turn, how aroused they’d been, how turned on he himself had been.

_Just drop off the phone and leave,_ he tells himself._ Drop off the phone and crawl back into bed and tomorrow is a new day._

He patters along the corridor and tries to ignore the thumping in his chest, the racing of his heart. It’s quiet in the house. Too quiet.

Ten finds himself longing for the boys in NCT; there was always something going on, some kind of sound.

Being in Jongin’s body makes him feel lonely. He wishes he could have curled up beside Mark and Taeyong out by the pool and caught up with their boys across the sea. He wants to be able to pile on with them and not have it look strange because they’re still at the point where they all see Jongin as a role model, more so than a group mate. It’s a long process to train themselves out of seeing Baekhyun, Taemin and Jongin as idols, _their_ idols.

Ten stops outside Taemin’s door and takes a deep breath, then reaches up to knock. For a while, there is no response. Then he hears a soft thump and cursing from inside. “Hyung?” he calls out despite himself, wondering if Taemin had been asleep. Perhaps he accidently rolled off the bed? Ten reaches out and knocks again. “Hyung, I have your phone. Baekhyun hyung wanted me to give it to you. I can just leave it-” The door opens a crack. “-Outside of the door. Jongin hyung?” 

Ten is startled by the sight of his own face peeping sheepishly through the crack in the door. Jongin is in Taemin’s room. Which is ok, totally normal, nothing to worry about. Except Ten still isn’t ready for this, so he panics and says in a big rush, “I’ve got hyung’s phone. I’m sorry to disturb you, I’ll just be going now-”

“Is that Ten?” he hears Taemin call. His voice sounds quiet and soft, like he’s just woken up, like he’d spent hours in the bedroom, like he had last night. Ten is bombarded with the memory of lusty blown pupils and water wet skin.

“Hyung, _please_, just take the phone,” he pleads and Jongin cracks open the door a little further, leans out and reaches for it. He’s about to take the phone when Ten actually looks at him, really looks, and he sees the flush breaking out across his skin, the way his own eyes look big and black, how slick his lips look and how dishevelled his hair is. It’s how he looks when he’s turned on (he’s been fucked in front of enough mirrors to know), and he recoils, snatches the phone back on a reflex. “What are you doing in there?” he demands.

“It’s not what it looks like,” Jongin says, voice slow and syrupy; fuck, that’s Ten’s voice, that’s how he gets when he’s aroused, when he spits filth into his partners ear and begs them to do him deeper, fuck him harder. He’s overwhelmed by a strange and sudden sense of indignance; what have they been doing in there? Has Taemin been touching him? Has Jongin been touching himself? Ten has not spent the last couple of days peeing with his eyes shut, praying his aim will hold true, and going to bed with progressively bluer balls every night, just for his hyung’s to fuck around?

Annoyed, he shoves at the door. It takes Jongin by surprise and he stumbles back, allowing Ten to barge his way into Taemin’s room, where he… stops.

Taemin is seated on his bed, covers drawn over his lap and fully clothed. There is a chair sat at the foot of the bed, and all of Jongin’s clothes remain on his body. Ten looks between the two of them suspiciously, unsure of what is going on. Now that he’s here, the fight leaves him as quickly as it arrived. He feels stupid, pathetic and lost, so out of whack and touch with everything around him. He points lamely at Taemin. “What’s going on?”

“I can explain,” Taemin says gently and Ten shakes his head, pointing at Jongin.

“I- he- it’s…that’s what I look like when I’m…” he begins.

“When you’re what?” Taemin asks softly. Ten can’t meet his eyes. “If you can’t even say it, Ten-ah, we can’t have a conversation about it.”

Ten chews hard on his lower lip. “…When I’m turned on,” he admits quietly. Jongin exhales heavily and Ten glares at him. “I thought we agreed not to touch,” he snaps.

“He doesn’t,” Taemin says, “…He watches.”

Ten whips around in time to see Taemin’s brows pinch a little, mouth twisted in discomfort before his expression smooths out once more. “What do you…mean…?” Ten asks, and it’s only then, when he really listens, that he becomes aware of a soft muffled vibrating noise. Ten blinks, and then blinks again. “You mean you’re- right now, you’re-?”

“I’m sorry,” Jongin says, and Ten jumps, eyes swinging back to stare at himself. His own body looks flushed, pupils heavy, and Jongin is twisting the fabric of his sweatpants unconsciously. Ten wonders if he’s hard, _don’t look, don’t look, don’t look,_ and immediately he proceeds to glance at Jongin’s lower regions. Yep, _definitely_ hard.

“Oh my god,” he says, voice weak and breathless.

“Ten-” Jongin says.

_“Fuck…”_ Taemin curses suddenly, softly, breathily, and Ten looks back at him. He’s going to give himself whiplash at this rate. Jongin is watching Taemin too, mouth open and glossy and he licks his lips without thinking about it.

Taemin’s eyes are squeezed shut as a shudder rocks through his body, hands clenching in his lap. Ten blinks helplessly as he takes a deep breath and then exhales shakily. He thinks back to a few days ago, when he and Jongin first switched bodies and he accidently found the vibrator in Taemin’s bag. He rubs hard at his eyes, curses softly to himself. What is his life?

”Ten…” Jongin tries again, but his voice is wrecked, shot to shit.

“How often has this happened?” Ten asks weakly.

Jongin has to capability of actually looking a little guilty. “Whenever we had time,” he admits. Taemin adjusts himself, sucking in sharp breaths and Ten feels dizzy. “Taeminnie masturbates and I watch. Just watch.”

“Fuck, we can’t talk about this,” Taemin gasps weakly, “Not like this.” He starts to reach under the blanket, and Ten gulps.

“No, wait-” he says and it’s like all the air has been sucked out of the room. Taemin licks his lower lip, mouth and cheeks flushed the same rosy hue. “I want…” Ten says softly, “To see…”

Taemin leans forwards slightly, T-shirt drooping to expose sinewy collarbones that beg to be marked, a long neck that needs claiming. “Yesterday, in the pool…” he began, “You weren’t interested.”

_That was before I found out you were giving hyung private audiences_, Ten thinks. Jongin snorts and Ten realises he said that out loud. He feels more emboldened now, though, if not a little nervous, which makes him trip over his words a little. “I-I want to see it.” He’s sick of this. Of looking and longing and feeling like he can’t. Of waking up and missing his own skin, his younger members, his members back home. Of missing Johnny and everything they once had. He wants a distraction, to shut his brain up for five minutes, to not have to think about anything. Weakly, he adds, “_Please_,” and his legs feel like jelly.

Taemin looks at Jongin, but it’s unanimous. “I want to show you,” he says, “Both of you.”

Now that it’s out there, Ten finds himself unsure and unfocused. He doesn’t know what to do, and he stares dumbly at his hyung for a few seconds, before small, slender fingers enclose around his wrist.

Ten looks up at Jongin, at himself, who gently tugs on his arm. He follows him dumbly as Jongin leads him over to the chair at the end of the bed. Ten sinks into it gratefully, and it’s only then he realises how weak his knees feel, like they would have fallen out from under him at any moment.

Jongin drags over the chair that sits at the disk in Taemin’s room and sits beside him, their eyes both focused on the other. Taemin has been sitting back against the pillows, waiting for them to settle.

Once he is sure they are ready for him, he kicks off the blanket and Ten stifles a gasp. It turns out he was wrong about Taemin being fully clothed.

Instead, he is naked from the waist down, clad only in one of Jongin’s T-shirts. Ten knows that it’s Jongin’s, because he wore it the other day after the Ellen show. Taemin must have taken it from the washing hamper when no one was looking. That makes his stomach twist hotly, knowing that Taemin has been wearing something he wore to do something like this.

Speaking off.

He needs a second to take it all in. Taemin’s all smooth skin and lenient lines, delicate muscle and soft definition. He’s hairless, waxed and silky skinned, emphasising the subtle bands of his abs and the pointed rosy pink of his nipples, matches that of his wet, wet mouth, when he rucks up the shirt.

His lush legs are spread, dainty limbs bent at the knee to keep them open for his audiences viewing pleasure, and Ten finally allows himself to look down, down between them, at the hard jut of Taemin’s cock, stiff and solid and flushing with blood, pink like every other part of him that Ten longs to put his mouth on.

He looks lower, a soft moan catching in the back of his throat at the sight of Taemin’s balls, heavy and full, and the hoop of the black vibrating butt plug that is protruding from his hole, the skin surrounding it sloppy and slick with lube.

Besides him, Jongin groans audibly. His fingers flex uselessly in the fabric of his pants, as he leans forwards in his seat, mesmerised. Ten glances at him, and swallows thickly. His mouth has started watering. “Do you like it, Ten-ah?” Taemin asks. His voice catches when he says Ten’s name. “Do you like what you see?”

Ten swallows again, skin prickling. He reaches up and smooths his hair out of his eyes. “Yes…” he admits, eyes following the movement when Taemin licks his index finger and thumb and begins to play with one of his nipples, tweaking the bud as the skin around it tightens further, pebbling under his ministrations. With his other hand, he searches blindly among the bed covers, feeling over the fabric.

“I’m afraid you arrived halfway through our playtime,” Taemin says, “I was so close, so ready to come. Wasn’t I, Nini?”

_“Yes.”_ Ten looks over at Jongin. He recognises that tone, the weak pip in Jongin’s voice; it was the same one he would have when Johnny edged him, when he’d been strung along for so long, he felt like he would die if he didn’t come. “You knocking on the door scared us a bit,” Taemin says, and it’s only the slight tremor in his voice that betrays how aroused he is. “You scared me, Ten-ah.”

There’s nothing that Ten can say, apart from, “I’m sorry.”

“You scared me yesterday,” Taemin continues. His fist encloses around something and he leans back against the pillows, spreads his legs further and bends one to give them the perfect view of him reaching down and enclosing one small hand around his cock. Ten watches, rapt, as Taemin begins to stroke himself, long smooth glides of his hand, quicker at the head and slower at the base. He can feel his own cock, half hard and throbbing inside his own pants. Jongin huffs. “You made me think you didn’t want me.”

“I want you.” Ten’s voice sounds so deep when he’s Jongin, deep and rough and gravelly. It’s out there now, in the open.

“Say it again.”

“I want you,” Ten repeats, stronger, surer, “Hyung, I _want_ you.”

“What about Jongin? Do you want him too?”

No take backs. “Yes.”

Besides him, Jongin groans. “I want you, Jongin hyung, I want you as me, I want you both. I think about it all the time, such dirty thoughts, I-” He cuts himself off, overwhelmed. He feels dizzy; a result of all of the blood leaving his head to fill his dick, no doubt, and all he can do is gaze at Taemin with big, lusty pupils, mouth open and panting and wet like a dumb dog. Ordinarily, he’d be embarrassed by how quickly he’s losing his mind in favour of his dick, but the circumstances he finds himself in are far from ordinary.

“It’s ok,” Taemin tells him, soft, gentle, his innocent, silly hyung. It’s so sweet, the sugar in his tone, that Ten could be fooled into forgetting that Taemin is performing for him, for them, touching himself for them to gain visual pleasure like some live action porno. Taemin’s hand around his cock slows for a moment and he holds up his other fist; in it, he claps a remote. “You did so good, Ten-ah, so good for us. Just sit back and watch, ok?”

Ten stares at him dumbly. Taemin smiles at him, then captures his chubby lower lip between his teeth and he adjusts his grip on the remote and then presses a button. The reaction is instantaneous. The sound of the vibrator kicks up and Taemin’s entire body goes as tight as a bow string, hips arching hard as he dials the vibrator all the way up to full speed, a sharp cry ripped from his mouth.

“Jesus _Christ,”_ Ten whispers, the sound strained by how badly he’s trying to suppress a moan.

“He’s something else, isn’t he?” Jongin groans. His hands are fisted so tightly into balls, Ten can see the veins in his arms straining. Fuck, he wants to touch himself.

Taemin writhes against the bed, little hiccups and moans spilling from his mouth as he struggles against the pleasure erupting from within him. He grinds against the air, gets no friction, and fists at his hair as he twists and turns on the sheets, hips spiking like he’s trying to pull away from the persistent hum of the butt plug. “Fuck, shit, fuck,” he gasps, reaching for the remote again desperately. He stabs blindly at the buttons till the vibrations calm, not switched off completely but no longer punishing against his prostate.

Moaning and with far too much grace for someone as turned on as himself, Taemin rolls onto his front, immediately arching his back so that his arse is displayed for them both to see. From his seat, Ten can finally see how wide the plug has Taemin’s hole stretched, the skin around it raw and tender looking. Again, he finds himself longing to put his mouth on it, desperate to taste and lap and lick.

“You’re gorgeous,” he says, surprising himself and Taemin moans, squirms at the praise and grinds his dick down into the bed sheets.

“I’ve _missed_ that voice,” he breathes, “Jongin, my Jongin.”

Besides Ten, Jongin moans softly in response. It’s Ten’s moan, breathy, effeminate, but that doesn’t matter. Ten doesn’t know how often they’ve done this, not exactly, with Taemin lying on the bed, working his hips into the bed sheets like he’s fucking a hole, any hole, and Jongin sitting there, grinding his teeth and clenching his fists, but he does know that Taemin misses Jongin. He must miss being close to him, being able to touch him and hold him and kiss him. He’s been just as stuck as he and Jongin have, this extra equation in an already complicated conundrum.

“Taemin hyung,” Ten says softly. He can feel Jongin looking at him, and Taemin’s spine rolls as he moves against the sheets, plug big and wide and no doubt nudging against is prostate in all the right places. “Taeminnie,” he says again and Taemin sobs, looks at them over his shoulder, tears starting to line his lashes as he reaches frantically for the remote, presses it until it’s set to the highest setting, pulsing through him. “You look so pretty, Taeminnie,” Ten says, voice nearly gone. He feels like he can’t speak too loud, for fear of breaking an unspoken spell that has descended over the room as he and Jongin watch, mystified, mesmerised.

Taemin’s legs spread further; Ten sees his hand disappear between his legs, cupping his dick and beginning to stroke. “Let me come,” he’s gasping, “Oh god, let me come, _please_.” 

“So gorgeous,” Ten continues. “Laid out and showing off for us. My Taeminnie, so beautiful.”

Jongin groans, pushes his palms into his eyes and smooths his hair back from his face. Sweat is beading at his temple, drawing attention to his flushing cheeks.

Ten licks his lips; they feel dry and chapped. He turns his attention back to Taemin, who is openly moaning. He’s practically rutting against the bed sheet and his hand now, small animal whines slipping from his lips as he struggles to stay up on the bed sheets. “Please,” Taemin sobs, and Ten swallows.

“You can come, Taeminnie,” he says softly, “Come for us.”

“_Jongin_!” Taemin cries, as his back bows, “Fuck, _Ten_!” His body jerks, spasms, as he cries out and comes hard, hole clenching and contracting around the plug inside him. _“Ah, ah, ah_,” he cries, legs turning to jelly as he melts against bedsheets, hips moving in fitful circles as he grinds his dick into the cotton.

“_My god_,” Ten huffs.

Taemin moans pitifully. The plug is still vibrating at full power, relentless against his poor prostate, to the point where it must be painful. Taemin is letting out these low hiccupping moans as he turns the vibrator off, shuddering when he curls up on his side, sleepy and sated.

Ten stares at him, at the wet slick of cum that licks its way up Taemin’s abs when he rolls onto his back, too fucked out and shaky to pull the plug out of himself. His dick lies against his hip, softening yet just as tempting. Ten wants to warm it in his mouth, in his arse, anything.

He’s _so_ hard.

Besides him, Jongin sits slumped, bulge visible within his sweats.

Ten looks at his own lap. Jongin’s dick, his dick, is so hard, it hurts. Thickly, he mumbles, “So…what usually happens now?”

From his spot on the bed, Taemin snorts weakly. “Nini usually goes and stands in a cold shower for half an hour,” he says, hand absently rubbing his belly.

Ten sees him gather the cum that lies there already starting to go tacky, and his mouth waters. He wants to suckle on them, taste his cum.

Jongin groans as he rises to his feet, practically swaying as he rubs hard at his face, and Ten suddenly can’t bear the thought of having witnessed this and not getting off. He’s aching, desperate, dying, and his brain is ruled by his dick when he says, “Wait. Hyung, you can- touch.”

Jongin pauses. “Ten?”

“Oh my god,” Taemin groans, and he reaches down and strokes himself lightly. He has no hope of getting hard again any time soon, but just seeing him touch himself makes everything become realer.

Ten licks his lips and gestures to the chair. “Touch yourself, hyung,” he says softly.

Jongin moans weakly, no hesitation as he sinks back into his seat, slender hand immediately moving to caress himself over the fabric of his pants. Ten is sure his pupils have expanded so much, there is hardly any brown left in his eyes. He watches as Jongin longingly strokes himself, before he’s rucking up his shirt, lifting his arse to shimmy his pants and underwear down to his mid thighs.

Ten immediately notices the wet spot around where the head of his penis sat, constrained within suffocating fabric.

His attention is captured as Jongin spits in his hand, no hesitation as he wraps his fist around himself and begins to jerk himself off, fast, hard. He moans openly, eyes fluttering shut and head thumping against the back of the chair in relief to finally get some friction.

Ten’s dick twitches in his pants and he groans, overwhelmed by everything he seen. It’s enough to bring Jongin back to him, who opens his eyes and moans out, “Touch yourself, c’mon, Ten, do it.”

“Hyung…” Ten says, bleeding into a whine.

“It’s ok,” Taemin says softly. Ten looks at him. T-shirt stretched to his collarbone, sitting up and still on that damn plug, Taemin makes him feel like he’s been naked this whole time, so exposed. “Do it, let me see, let hyung see you both.”

Ten’s hands move on auto pilot. He rubs himself over his clothes, lightly at first, then harder. Jongin sees him and groans again, hand speeding up. Ten meets his eyes and he’s done for, hands frantically shoving his pants down his legs as he starts to stroke himself, slow, slow, fondling, caressing his balls. They stay like that, eyes mostly closed, every soften opening them to watch the other touch themselves.

Ten finally has the confidence to look at Jongin’s dick, really look. It’s as big and thick as he’d always thought it would be, veiny and rigid in his palm, small drops of pre-cum leaking from its head. He wants to spit on it, suck it, fuck his own throat with it. He wishes he could be himself again, and gag on Jongin’s dick. He moans openly at the thought.

From the bed, Taemin is slowly teasing himself with the plug again. He hasn’t turned it on, still too sensitive, but he is moving it in and out of his hole, fucking himself gently with it. “Fuck, look at you both,” he murmurs, voice like syrup and smoke, “So hot, my boy, my boys.”

Ten groans, knees weakening. He strokes his dick, harder, fondles, faster. It’s too much, it’s not enough. _“Fuck…”_ he groans, now in frustration as much as it is pleasure, eyes shut.

“You need it wetter.”

He lifts his head at the sound of his own voice. “What?”

“Fuck…” Jongin grits his teeth and then releases himself. He stands on shaky legs and stumbles to the bed. Taemin hands him the lube without even thinking about it. “I like it wetter,” Jongin says thickly, “Wetter and faster. Here.” He holds the lube out to Ten, who is too distracted at the sight of Jongin, himself, so shameless and proud in his state of sexual satisfaction. Jongin mistakes Ten’s delay for reluctance, and he says, “May I-?”

Unsure of what he’s asking, Ten nods. It isn’t clear, until Jongin squeezes a large dollop of lube onto his palm and steps forwards. Ten stares as he stands before him, half naked, small and thin. He isn’t expecting it when Jongin wraps a small hand around his penis, and starts to jerk him off quickly, the silence quickly filling with the wet slick of lube sliding across his dick. Instantly, Ten’s knees buckle, and he moans, stumbling forwards into Jongin’s waiting arms. A slim arm hooks around his neck; Ten stares down into his own eyes, so jarring and strange, and Jongin keeps close as he jerks him off.

“That’s so _hot_,” Taemin breathes, and absently, Ten hears the vibrator start again.

Jongin moans softly, the sound muffled into the skin of Ten’s throat where he rests his head. “That feels amazing…” Ten groans, and his hand fumbles down, wrapping a hand around Jongin’s dick, other one grasping his balls. “I, _ah,_ I like it slow,” he says thickly, “Like this.”

“Touch me,” Jongin hisses, hand working faster, and Ten feels heat burning in his belly. They jerk each other off, so much better when they know how they like it, how their bodies like to be touched.

“You both look so good,” Taemin groans. “God, I want you to fuck me so bad, I want to fuck you both, fuck.”

“_Shit_,” Ten gasps, as he feels the familiar tickle start in his stomach. He’s going to come; he can feel it getting closer and closer. Jongin’s whining into his neck and the frequency with which they occur has picked up. “Are you close, hyung?” he asks, voice wavering with desperation.

“Ten, _fuck_,” Jongin gasps against his skin, and Ten feels sharp teeth pinprick into his neck, a little bite, as he squeezes the head of Jongin’s dick and Jongin moans loudly, warm cum spurting between them.

The feel of warm spunk dripping over his hand, the pinch of Jongin’s teeth and the knowledge that Ten had been the one to make him come, is enough to send Ten over the edge to. He groans, it borders on a growl, a sound he himself would never make, as his knees buckle and he orgasms hard.

It feels so good, as Jongin uses the cum as extra lubricant as he jerks him to the point of oversensitivity, panting against Ten’s neck and Ten holds him close.

They both drag their gazes to Taemin long enough to watch him orgasm a second time, powerful and bone draining, and then they sink back into their chairs.

Ten feels exhausted and overwhelmed. There’s _so much_ cum, on his chest, on his thighs, all over Jongin’s hand. It feels incredible.

Jongin looks sleepy and sated, well fucked and ready to sleep. Ten knows it’s been a while since he looked like that. It’s a good look on him, he thinks.

From his spot on his bed, Taemin groans softly and eases the plug out of his overtaxed hole. Ten winces at the size and thickness of it, worried for Taemin having that inside him for so long. “So,” Taemin says once he has set the anal plug aside, voice wrecked and looking thoroughly fucked out. “We should probably talk about this.”

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments are always appreciated ;D


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